


Curious Case of Yagiri Siblings - Shizuo

by malna



Category: Durarara!!
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Barebacking, Enemies With Benefits, Enemies to Lovers, F/M, Gen, Gentle Sex, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-10
Updated: 2019-03-18
Packaged: 2019-09-15 23:41:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 24
Words: 27,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16942932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/malna/pseuds/malna
Summary: Shizaya become enemies with benefits and Shizuo gets utterly lost in the process. Meanwhile, Izaya finds his humanity and Namie makes a friend.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Please don't fret over Shizuo/Namie pairing; it is disgustingly innocent and short-lived since they both are in love with other people.  
> I am not a native English speaker and this is unbeta'd.

It all began with Namie.

Shizuo was taking out his rage on the door to the informant's apartment. 

“Izaya!” He bellowed. “Open the door so that I can kill you dead!”

A woman with the appearance of the queen of the damned off-duty cracked open the door.

“You must be Shizu-chan.” The cemetery draft resounded in her voice.

“Don't call me that!” 

Shizuo barged in, overturning a chest of drawers with glass and stacks of papers piling on it in his stride.

“Come out, flea! I'll pound you six feet into the ground.”

“He should be nearing Otome Road by now.”

Shizuo eyed the woman quizzically. 

“Aren't you his secretary?”

She didn't roll her eyes but it was a close thing.

“This would be why I know. Here,” she zoomed in a google docs file on her phone and flashed it in front of Shizuo's nose. Sure enough, it read _3.15 - Have him bring dōjinshi on his way back_. “This means you'll catch him in Animate if you leave now and take the tube.” 

Shizuo scrolled the document up and down, trying to figure out if this was some kind of trick they came up with in advance for when enemies come after the informant. 

Enticing smell wafting about in the air swiftly won his attention over.

“Is this stew?”

Namie raised an eyebrow. 

“Good call.” She returned to the kitchen, avoiding shards of glass on her way down the corridor, carefully stirred the long forgotten concoction and took a sip. After a momentary concentration she passed a verdict. “Too salty.”

“You cook for him, too?” 

“I cook for myself paying with his money. The downside of it is that he gets fed as well.”

“Give me that,” Shizuo snatched the wooden spoon from Namie's hand and, unperturbed, helped himself to a mouthful of stew.

“'s good,” he mumbled. “Throw in a potato or two and they'll absorb the surplus salt.”

He could almost see recalibration going in her eyes. Once the process has been completed, she fished two small potatoes from the cupboard.

“Are you really going to kill him?”

“Yeah. I am.”

She nodded, once.

“Very well. Everything lines up perfectly. Peel the potatoes and we'll have dinner together. Izaya will have returned by the time we finish - you can kill him then. He won't eat when he's dead and I don't like wasting food.”

Shizuo eyed her dubiously before picking up the potatoes and claiming a seat at the table once Namie handed him a peeling knife.

“It seems I misjudged you on the basis of your employer, Namie san.” He nearly felt the sharp look she cut him at that and smiled. He got as much as her name when a massage had popped up on her phone. “I can see now you're a woman of integrity.”

Shizuo thanked nature for the gene for acting that ran in his family tree when he managed to deliver the line with perfectly innocent seriousness of a blockhead because it startled an honest laugh from Namie, and he had a feeling she hadn't laughed like that in a very long time.


	2. Go, Namie!

“I've missed the stop that is my universe,” said Izaya.

He was hovering by the door, swaying it a little back and forth like the scene inside might rearrange itself at any time it opened a crack again. Shizuo, to his own astonishment, had been so engrossed in the latest discoveries in the field of biochemistry and their potential applications Namie had been describing that he hadn't even noticed the flea who must have been watching them for awhile, looking genuinely dumbstruck.

By the time Namie had breached into epigenetics, which sounded more like magic than solid science, her slender fingers were scribbling simple patterns in salt she'd spilled at the tabletop just because it had been at hand. Shizuo had a fleeting thought he might have enjoyed school a little more had it been anything like this.

Nevertheless, all his focus redirected in a flash when he saw Izaya in the room. His eyes lit up and a crooked smile graced his features. 

“Ready to die, flea?”

Shizuo started throwing things at random, and Izaya for his part was hopping from one furniture to the next, intermittent with dangling on the lamp mid-leap. 

“This is what being inside a laundromat must feel like.” Namie commented, a little overwhelmed and a lot fascinated.

When Izaya decided he had enough fun and ran for the door, she kicked it closed so abruptly he only narrowly avoided hitting it like a cartoon character. 

“The fuck, bitch!” He yelled at his employee when Shizuo caught up with him, placing his heavy hand just beside his head.

“Ah, I intended to trip him up and miscalculated?”

“I was running before him!”

“Ah...”

Shizuo was smiling like a Cheshire Cat, his eyes focused on Izaya completely. And then someone was knocking on the door.

“Are you shitting me?” Namie hissed, positively enraged that fate would choose to protect this pest of her employer's life once again.

“What's going on in there? I'm calling the police!” A male voice outside informed. Izaya was about to scream but Shizuo closed his other hand around his throat.

“Everything is fine, we're having a renovation,” Namie shouted.

“Is this a joke? Open the door or I'm calling the police right now.”

Shizuo knew, with all the documents currently decorating the entire space of Izaya's apartment, the informant would be in serious trouble had police become involved, so he was currently practicing silent communication with the flea and once he decided they'd reached mutual understanding, he slowly loosened his grip and then let go completely. Having gulped down a few spluttering breaths, Izaya cracked the door open and stuck his head out.

“Good afternoon, Yamato san,” he rasped. “I'm sorry for the inconvenience. We'll keep quiet now. We have to wrap up anyway and leave this door open to vent the paint, so no more ruckus, I swear.”

There was a number of reasons why Izaya was like a cockroach in terms of survival. Shizuo had to hand it to him, the informant could think on his feet.

There was a pause on the other side of the door while everybody inside held their breath.

“If I hear a sound--”

“You're calling the police at once. Understood.”

As the man was leaving, Izaya gently pushed the door wider ajar.

Shizuo looked conflicted.

“I can't keep quiet when I do it,” he told Namie.

He almost felt the flea swallowing down his mirth like his life depended on it because it very well might.

“There's always tomorrow,” she finally conceded, resigned. She didn't look happy about it.

Izaya was well practiced in regaining his composure in a matter of seconds after escaping death. He looked around, taking in the utter clusterfuck that was his apertment.

“And here I was going to have a _friend_ over tonight, Shizu-chan. How do you intend to compensate me?”

Shizuo crossed his arms, looking at the flea with unveiled revulsion.

“You bring your hook-ups here when Namie's staying with you?”

“ _Namie_ ” Izaya lilted, mocking the softness to the name in Shizuo's voice. “What can I say? She's not my type.”

“That's not what I--” 

Namie's gentle hand on Shizuo's shoulder soothed his anger, even if just a notch.

“He does bring them here on occasion,” she said, cold and hollow. “It's disgusting.”

Izaya smirked, sending her a cutting look.

“There is nothing about you that isn't disgusting, Namie-san, other than your looks.”

The woman didn't attempt to deny it. Still, she held her boss' gaze and returned the venom in kind.

“I was very much looking forward to kicking your lifeless face in.”

Izaya was smiling as the two of them seemed locked in their own praying mantis' contest and Shizuo felt a little out of place. Out of his depth. Finally, Izaya broke the eye contact and turned his attention to Shizuo.

“She can't date--”

“It's not that I can't--”

“Do you really want to go there?” Izaya spoke over her voice, eyes still trained on Shizuo. He savored his victory for a couple seconds when only silence had answered him.

Shizuo felt as if trapped in a nest of hornets and he couldn't see how these two people could possibly live and work together every day in this atmosphere.

“As I was saying, Namie can't date but it's not like you can either, Shizu-chan, am I right or am I right? Because you're a monster. Unlike her case though, yours leaves room for one night stands and I can't fathom why you don't benefit from that - it's the only way for you! No girl who saw you for what you really are will ever stay after all.”

Just as Shizuo was about to tell the flea where he could stick his morbid curiosity about his love life, both men were startled by Namie's voice. The woman was leaning against the wall, head tilted back, with a small, thoughtful frown adoring her delicate face.

“Why?”

For once, Izaya seemed caught off guard, as he didn't come up with a reply right away.

“This must be the weakest lie I've seen you spin yet,” she carried on. “I don't know how normal women think but they can't be _that_ stupid.” Giving a little nod to where Shizuo was standing, looking no less perplexed than Izaya, she continued,

“I mean, what's not to like? He's funny, he doesn't talk nonsense. He's a good listener, curious and aware that the world doesn't revolve around him. He has a nice voice and _you know_ he's a looker.”

Shizuo was blushing but even more than that, he stood there transfixed. Never had he been told so many compliments, some of which about the things he didn't even recognize as special or worth mentioning. Apparently, they were.

“Oh, and he can cook.” She sent a small smile Shizuo's way. “As for the strength, it can be an asset, and it can be hot, all depending on one condition. Tell me, Shizu-chan, do you hurt the people you care about?”

Shizuo was mesmerized, which was only magnified by the unearthly sight of Izaya sporting the deer in the headlights look and utterly unable to snap out of it.  
He thought about Kasuka and the very idea of hurting his little brother once he'd realized his full strength was appalling. He shook his head.

“There you have it. Your monster, dissected and demystified. On the house, Izaya.” Shizuo was watching her every move now, listening to every word like aliens landed in Izaya's hallway to share details of their plan to save the world.

“You're wrong,” Izaya's voice rang hollow. “You're wrong, Shizu-chan is inhuman. No one would ever--”

“I would.” Namie cut off. “That's another point, Izaya. I _can_ date.”

Shizuo's head was spinning, and the calming breath Namie took before resuming, eyes closed, felt necessary and grounding for himself as well.

“I can.” Her smile for all that it was small, radiated genuine joy and strength. “I _want to_.”

“Shizu-chan,” She turned to him, and the nickname never sounded so sweet. Ludicrous. “Will you go out with me?”

For a moment, all Shizuo managed through his state of shock was a mild a nod.

“Yeah,” he rasped at last. “Yeah, I will. I'll be honored.” From what he'd seen of Namie thus far, he really, really meant it.

Namie, being one hell of a secretary (amongst all hell of other things), swiftly took care of the arrangements. Shizuo was still recovering from shock but he didn't miss how far down his own stupor Izaya was. As if he weren't even there and only this pale, lifeless shape remained physically in place. 

All of a sudden, Izaya's sickly pale face turned very green.

“You can't fuck here.”

Shizuo snorted, taking this as a sign that Izaya was regaining his natural state of being a pest but that thought was quickly discarded, as the informant wasn't looking at them, he wasn't looking anywhere, frozen in place, shaken and absent.


	3. Chapter 3

Shizuo would feel quite lost cruising through department stores in search of appropriate outfit for a date if it weren't for the company of his little brother. He didn't know what Namie had planned for their evening together but at least she'd told him to wear something casual and comfortable, which had been a relief. Shizuo might not be able to keep it together if the stress of the first date was compounded with having to mind his manners all the time in some stiff, posh place. That being said, he did want to put effort into preparations, not just to impress the girl but above all else to show Namie that the privilege of her company called for trying his best. He would grant any person he dated this much but in this case he meant it all the more. Because a lot happened that day they met in Izaya's apartment, and Shizuo was under the impression he wasn't the only one whose world shifted more than a little in the aftermath. This wouldn't have happened if Namie hadn't confronted her employer the way she had.

It wasn't like Shizuo ever really bought this whole monster narrative Izaya had always spun, about him not being human, about how he would never have a relationship and all that, but he wasn't entirely unaffected either.  
He believed that the world consisted of yin and yang – he didn't even think about this much in terms of belief; he'd seen this dynamics at work all the time – and for that reason he'd always figured there would be a light to complement his dark. Or softness to smooth his rough edges. Like the kindness of the lady who had offered him milk to aid his mending bones. He'd been so caught up in this idea that he'd never even noticed how he'd always been drawn to people who didn't fit this picture at all. Celty, Shinra, even Kasuka. Izaya most of all.

Then he'd met Namie, aloof, closed-off, ruthlessly honest and brilliant queen of the damned Namie, and that day relativity theory had been introduced to the laws of Shizuo's universe. Through her, Shizuo was granted a glimpse into the inner workings of a nest of hornets that Izaya and Namie had made for themselves. To them, Shizuo was light. Shizuo was conversations about their passion, playful, breathless chases across the city for no reason at all, fearless laughter at their dark, to them even his inhuman strength could be caring. “What's not to like?” And Namie exposed just that, exposed Izaya in the process, calling his bluff. 

 

“Just to get this out of the way, you know what they say about Yagiri Pharmaceuticals practices, right?”

Kasuka was speaking in his usual, impassive monotone, frowning between three shirts he picked from a rail of hangers.

Shizuo hummed in acknowledgment. Of course he knew. Ikebukuro was his world, with its bright and dark. He knew its inner workings like the back of his hand. The sudden realization that both Namie and Izaya conducted experiments on humans, each in their own way and area of expertise, made it difficult to stifle a laugh building in his chest. Maybe there was something wrong with him. 

It was what it was.

They'd already picked a pair of black pants that gave a nice edge to his long legs and the shirts mounting in Kasuka's lap were all classy without getting overstated but at the other end of an isle, a dark, sharply cut claret button-down caught his eye.


	4. Chapter 4

When the door to the informant's apartment flew open, Shizuo was greeted by the sight of two comically startled faces and a faint whistle from Izaya whose swivel chair halted mid-spin abruptly enough to screech. Shizuo was being fixed with a lingering sidelong gaze from head to toe before the flea pivoted back to his desk without sparing him a single biting insult. Which Shizuo found a little disconcerting and oddly disappointing. As for Namie, her startling came in form of turning even more impassive than usual, with only her gaze straining in focus as if she were in the process of dissecting a particularly fluffy specimen.

Shizuo was starting to feel a little awkward under the scrutiny before Namie finally stepped to the side to let him in. She was wearing a sweater and a pair of jeans which made Shizuo feel ridiculously overdressed for the occasion. Casual and comfortable, she had requested. Right.

Namie asked him to give her ten minutes as she wasn't quite ready. Shizuo was fairly certain she didn't fully comprehend the sacrifice that demanded of him, with Izaya present in the room, breathing and clicking his pen in deliberately annoying manner. 

With an eerie focus reflected on her face, Namie proceeded to rummage through all the wardrobes and cabinets in the apartment. 

“What are you looking for?” Izaya blandly inquired.

“My cheerleader costume.”

Her answer, delivered in that trademark dull queen-of-the-damned voice, got no reaction from the flea but it startled a laugh from Shizuo. This seemed to surprise both Namie and Izaya. Seriously, did their mutual hatred run so deep they couldn't even appreciate one another's humor? 

In the end, Namie's lips twitched up at the corner. Tentatively.

“You two are disgusting,” Izaya commented.

“Izaya!” Shizuo's brow was twitching.

“Dis-gus-ting! Can you even fuck without crushing your partner's spine in fifteen places, Shizu-chan?”

“Wanna find out if I can do that without fucking?”

“I'm not your partner, Shi-zu-chan.”

Shizuo roared his rage out and flexed his muscles beyond what the breaking point of his shirt turned out to be. Stitching unraveled at the seem on his shoulder leaving a gaping hole in place. 

Izaya raised an eyebrow while Namie stood up, eying a cabinet she'd been raking like it personally offended her.

“It's not here,” she announced and left to the adjacent room.

Clunks and thumps carried off beat as Namie progressed in her search. Meanwhile, Shizuo was beginning to sweat, trapped in the room with Orihara Izaya alone. After two long, agonizing minutes, the flea sighed heavily and was about to say something.

“The first breath you make audible will be your last.”

The informant rolled his eyes and stood up to leave the room. Shizuo's relief was short-lived as something promptly hit him in the head and bounced off at his feet. He picked up a spool of strand with a needle dug in and gaped at the accessories helplessly.

Izaya was watching him with a frown.

“Don't tell me Shinra patches you up every time.”

Hardly ever. Shizuo's wounds mended in no time entirely on their own.

“I got a good body.”

Izaya snorted.

“I'll say.” He huffed a breath, shaking his head. “Figures.”

Their fingers brushed as Izaya took the spool from Shizuo's hands whilst Shizuo experienced some kind of system crash down because Izaya was not supposed to feel this way to the touch.

“I'll do it,” Izaya said. “You made sure I got good at that, why not reap the benefits.”

Shizuo was looking at the flea like he grew another head.

“You can't go on a date like this, Shizu-chan,” Izaya reasoned. “It's not cute, it's not even funny. It's just sad.”

Shizuo didn't move. Surely a gigantic hole in the shirt was better than no shirt at all.

“Suit yourself.” Izaya shrugged and turned to leave.

But it was still pretty damn bad. Reluctantly, Shizuo started unbuttoning. 

“If you--”

“Yeah, yeah. Death penalty. Roger that.” 

Izaya snatched the shirt and sunk into an armchair in the far corner of the room, setting out to the task. Shizuo had always known Izaya had deft hands, but he did seem extremely well practiced at this, at times rushing the movements, which was quite telling.

Shizuo never gave much thought to what was happening in the wings of their stunts, because to him it was all done when it was done, and he was good to go. Almost every time. He didn't ponder how uneven the ground they were standing on was.

Carrying a huge, stuffed kitbag on her arm, Namie returned, only to stop dead in the doorway which offered clear view on Shizuo, three feet in front of her face. She blinked, once.

“You're welcome,” Izaya sing songed, his eyes firmly trained on the task at hand.

Shaking out of it, she said,

“Put your clothes back on, Shizu-chan. We're good to go.”

“Go where?” Shizuo asked, frowning pointedly at her bag. 

Meanwhile, Izaya had finished the stitching and handed the shirt back to its rightful owner. Shizuo inspected it primarily for any new patches with inscriptions like “Protozoan”. Finding none, he started looking for the mismatched stitching and this turned out not so easy to spot either.

“How am I to amuse myself with two of my favorite playthings gone?” Izaya pouted.

“Jump out a window if you get bored.” Namie slammed the door behind them.

"You still can't fuck in my house!"


	5. Chapter 5

It's not like Shizuo expected flowery romance from Namie, and he certainly didn't believe in love at first sight to have gotten his hopes up before their evening together. He never disregarded Izaya's malicious comments about her not dating for a reason either. Shizuo fully realized and condoned to the fact that for Namie this date was a statement first and foremost. It was about proving something to herself as well as standing up to Izaya before it was about anything else.

That being said, his spirits plummeted down still when they arrived by high security fences of a chemical factory in the outskirts of town. Once Namie pulled out a welder from her kitbag (retrieved from Shizuo who'd carried it all the way up to the stretch of wire netting they were now mincing by), his role in this venture had become more or less predictable. 

“Just tell me we're not doing a job for Izaya,” he said, a little vexed and a lot rueful.

She put her goggles on. “No, we're not. There are things in this facility that came from another world and I happen to be in need of one of them.”

Oh. Of course. Why wouldn't there be.

“Not a chemical factory, then.”

“It is, actually.” She smiled faintly. “In its outermost layer. My company used to collaborate with one department. The interesting part, however, is hidden literally underground.”

Shizuo found no guards in sight, which, in the light of what he'd just learned about the facility, was rather baffling but there were at least five security cameras he could spot so far.

“Shouldn't we worry about these?” He pointed to the one located in the corner of the roof.

“Not if we manage to take what we came for with us,” Namie said. “Funny how difficult it is to officially charge anybody with stealing of items that allegedly were never there to be stolen.”

“Why not with just plain old breaking and entering?”

“Again, this is where the insurance of our being in possession of the artifacts no one wants disclosed comes in useful.” She turned to look Shizuo in the eye. “As you can infer, my plan relies rather strongly on the part where we procure them.”

He nodded. “Why aren't there guards swarming all over this place? I've only noticed one security booth on the west side as we were passing.”

“Very few people know what is stored in this place. Excessive security would only draw unnecessary attention. Its safety relies on secrecy, solid barriers and advanced security protocols.”

“I'm guessing this is where I come in.”

“And my security passes.” She smiled at him.

Shizuo pondered over the unexpected turn their date was taking.

“What is it that you need from here exactly?”

Her smile turned a little patronizing, yet kept an odd warmth to it.

“Right, right...” Shizuo raked a hand through his hair. “I'm not too sure about all this.”

Namie raised an elegant eyebrow. “There's a living, sentient essence of the world your friend comes from in there.”

“How do you know about--”

“I live with an information broker.” She waved off. “Or we can still catch our reservation for Seventeen Smiles of Veronica at Toho for nine o'clock.”

“Eh?”

“Something about dying from unrequited love.”

Shizuo tried and failed to suppress a wince. Even in the dark it must have shown because Namie was smiling this little ghost smile that made Shizuo feel _weak_.

“You really made a reservation?”

“Yes.”

Shizuo sighed. “Alright, let's do this.” He walked up to the fence.

Namie turned on her welder and started cutting through the wires. Shizuo caught a fistful of the netting right above where she was working and tore an almost perfectly shaped door for them in no time.

“Oh.”

He opened the newly manufactured door and stepped to the side.

“After you.”


	6. Chapter 6

As it turned out, Shizuo didn't even have to knock out the two guards present within the premises as they had been very much engrossed with their game of shougo. Three ironclad walls and a thicket of laser sensors later, eight flights of stairs down, Shizuo and Namie entered a vast, oblong hall decorated with rows of glass containers stretching along the walls on both sides. Using her flashlight, Namie tinkered with electrical plugs by the gate. Dim glow of emergency illumination filled the room. Namie set to the task right away, without hesitation picking the few items she must have selected beforehand. Shizuo was left to explore on his own, mincing from one showcase to the next like a tourist.

Under closer inspection, however, the artifacts seemed seriously disappointing. There were walnuts, cherries, all kinds of utensils and mundane accessories. A beautiful bonsai tree caught his eye. None of the things he found looked otherworldly to him, however pretty some of them might be.

He inquired his partner in crime about this.

“They translate into the world they found themselves in as best they can. Think your friend's horse. It must have been Celty's original vehicle here on Earth but these days a motorbike blends in a lot better in the streets of metropolis.”

“So, she doesn't really speak Japanese either, does she?”

“Unless learning two thousand kanji is her hobby. It takes all kinds.” Namie shrugged.

Right. Celty only ever communicated in writing.

“Is it magic?”

He caught a small, patronizing smile from Namie as she shoved a blister-pack into a pigeonhole in her bag.

“Not at all. Just a different world with a different set of rules. Our best guess is, hundreds of years ago, two black holes entangled, one in each universe, and they formed a kind of vacuuming tunnel. Entanglement is a very fragile state, however, which is why only small amount of matter had been transfered before the connection broke. Now we're left with some alien trinkets that to us appear magical, as in, they don't follow our laws of physics. But they do follow a set of rules that in turn don't apply to us. In that regard, in another world I suppose our earthly things could be seen as magical too.”

Shizuo's brow was pinched in thought.

“Am I one of them?” He asked. “I mean, I'm not like Celty, obviously. I'm not ancient but maybe some of that alien stuff found its way into my body somehow.”

He didn't like the idea one bit but being related to Celty was infinitely preferable an explanation to his condition than being a monster. And it fit with the peculiar connection he shared with the dullahan, with how calm and at ease he'd always felt in her company.

Namie blinked.

“My, my. Izaya really did a number on you, Shizu-chan,” she said. “As far as I can tell, you're as human as they come. My educated guess is that your norepinephrine reuptake is just glitching for some reason. We can find out some time exactly why that is, if you want, and put your worries to rest once and for all.”

 _If you want._ Namie was smiling at him and Shizuo could tell right away that her offer came from a completely different place than Shinra's. There was no morbid curiosity behind it, she clearly didn't recognize Shizuo's case as odd at all. She probably deemed the prospect of working on it as a bit of unnecessary hustle. Yet here she was, offering to do it anyway. Just because it might bring Shizuo some peace. Namie's offer came from the place of kindness and genuine concern. For Shizuo. Which was more than a little overwhelming. 

“I'm not sure it's worth your time. Shinra- my friend,” Shizuo stammered. “He's a doctor. He'd been looking into my case for years and nothing really came of it.”

“You will find I'm very good at what I do, Shizuo.” She wasn't boasting, he could tell. She was giving him facts. “But you will find it only if you give me a chance. It's up to you.”

“Ah, I-- Thank you.” Shizuo was darting his gaze around, feeling a little flustered. In the end, his eyes settled on Namie's kitbag. The woman was clearly done plundering for the day. “This is probably not the best time to discuss this.” 

“Isn't it?” A smile was playing on her lips. “We are on a date, after all.”

“I don't know. Are we?”

“Oh, yes.” She took Shizuo by the hand and led him to the far door behind showcases. “Let me show you.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fear not this light, Namie san! We are all this light.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Something for headphones that I think works well with this chapter: [Sol Seppy - enter one](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ypApKTXuOxU&list=RDypApKTXuOxU&start_radio=1).

They entered a pitch black room, the huge size of which could only be estimated through strings of glistering golden light bouncing off walls and vaulting of its confinement. There was nothing save for a small hatch in the gate they walked through by means of contact with the outside. Small, gentle gusts of cool air coming from ventilation prevented Shizuo from feeling a little claustrophobic.

“Four people in Japan have clearance to enter here,” Namie's voice was coming from nearby Shizuo's right. 

“I bet you say that to all the guys?”

Intimately close, rustling noises indicated that Namie took a seat on the floor, and Shizuo followed cue, shunting the kitbag she had passed him to carry to his left.

“This is the purest essence of the world your friend comes from. Everything within it emerges from this light.”

Shizuo watched enthralled as beams of bright light strewed in abundant brilliant sparks. 

“Show off!” Namie raised her voice, supposedly at the otherworldly presence in the room. “It likes you.” She noticed with mild irritation.

Part of the light separated and flew to burst in a warm glow right in Namie's face, bringing it out from the darkness.

“No way.” Shizuo marveled. “It can hear you? Are you alright?”

“I'm fine. At its most ferocious it gets _tingling_ ” She spat out the last word to the light in front of her. A brilliant orb sat on her nose. “I'm on a date, don't make me look bad.”

The light split in two and morphed into golden, gleaming earrings that moved to adorn Namie's earlobes. 

“No way.” Shizuo was drinking in the sight. The light moved to snake around his hand and up his forearm. There was something that bothered him about all this, still. “Is it conscious?”

“Very,” Namie confirmed. “More than you or me.”

Shizuo was enraged.

“How can they keep it trapped in this dark, desolate box?”

“Calm down, Shizu-chan. It's not what you think.” Namie waved off his concerns. All of a sudden, she huffed a laugh, watching Shizuo with amusement. “Yeah, yeah. Our Shizu-chan is a saint. I know.”

Shizuo realized there was a distinct halo around his head, and he had a sneaking suspicion he was being mocked.

“Oi!” He growled at the light in warning, which of course availed to nothing.

“The essence is connected to everything within its world; it creates it. In this form, however, it's not really meant to interact. There would be no point, as it is one with everything. It's not the best metaphor but let's just say it's no more trapped in this room than your brain is in your skull.”

Shizuo kept silent for a long time after that, watching the beautiful light show in awe.

“So it's connected to Celty, as well? Can she see us now?”

“It doesn't work like that. The light is all encompassing consciousness but its more solid incarnations, like Celty, are veiled from that omniscience so that they can become their own, separate entities. An illusion of sorts. At their core, however, they are still one and the same with the light so I suppose they can feel it intuitively, like you can know things in your heart at times, if you listen.” 

Shizuo pondered over this in his mind, all the while watching the magnificent spectacle in the dark.

“Kinda romantic, if you think about it,” he blurted out.

Turning his gaze to Namie, he caught the lighted corners of her eyes crinkling in mirth.

“That was the idea, yes.”

It's not like Shizuo had much comparison to go by but he could tell nonetheless that Namie's way with flirting was much to his liking. The changing atmosphere of the evening could give lesser men a whiplash. Within an hour he came from resigned to be used as a tool in a heist to... this. Otherworldly starry night filled with quiet conversations about interconnectedness. And he knew Namie planned it all along this way. For him.

Shizuo was looking at her, face enfolded in warm glow, tiny, glimmering sparks clinging to her eyelashes, flare of white light spilling upon her lips. She was breathtaking. 

“You're looking at me,” Namie said, baffled. Her expression was almost comical, if Shizuo weren't too caught up in his embarrassment to really notice. 

“Sorry, I-”

“No.” She promptly cut off whatever the excuse he might come up with. She took his hand in hers. “Ne, Shizu-chan. Remember what Izaya said, about me not dating?”

“Yeah,” he said. “I do.”

Shizuo knew there was a story there. He had known all along, and with mild surprise he realized that he was calm now, prepared for whatever might transpire next. 

“There is someone I love very much.” Whiplash, yes. Lesser men, all the same. “Many years ago, I showed him something from that other world. He... hasn't looked at me much after that.”

Shizuo hummed quietly and closed his eyes. Gently – carefully - he squeezed Namie's hand in what he hoped was a reassuring manner. There was nothing of value he could contribute so he kept silent. Granted space for her to speak at length, if she needed. Or to just be together in silence, if she preferred. 

Namie's hand in his shifted and, in a moment, soft lips pressed gently against his own. Shizuo gave into this small rush of warmth artlessly. Namie's breath felt startled and fragile on his skin. Her nose, strands of hair, briefly brushed against his cheek in a sweet caress. 

It was nice and warm and over way too soon. He couldn't see Namie's face clearly in the dark but he thought she seemed a little flushed and a lot startled. She shuffled to her feet and went outside in haste, leaving Shizuo prey to his own musings. He decided not to follow her right away. From what he'd seen so far, she seemed to take favorably to being given space. 

“What do _you_ think, Tinkerbell?” Shizuo asked the light. It cuddled around him lovingly, soaked into him, warming up his chest. He felt instantly comforted and recalled with fondness that this light was what his best friend was made of. He closed his eyes and concentrated on his feelings for Celty, silently asking the light to keep her warm and safe always.

 

At that moment, the alarm went off. Shizuo dashed for the door but it was already latched.


	8. Chapter 8

Shizuo slammed into the door all guns blazing. He was hammering in it with all he had but unlike the barriers he had broken through earlier on, this one was heavily reinforced and didn't appear to budge.  
Through the miniscule rectangle of a hatch, he got to witness Namie's internal struggle. It looked as if she were one of those iron chips stuck quivering on a piece of paper between two magnets before sliding into one side inevitably. He saw her staring back at him with round, petrified eyes, tearing her gaze off to cast a glance at the control panel by the gate, all the while shuffling her feet, her whole body jerking sharply towards the exit.

In the end, her face went completely blank, her eyes stone cold. By that time, Shizuo knew her decision had been made, and it was final. Things were looking rather grim for him.

But Namie was not a person whose line of thought and tell tales reflected that of most other people. With robotic resolve, she approached the controls and started fiddling with them.

Shizuo watched her toggling change-over switches in various combination routs, trying to manually override the process in motion. By the looks of it, she wasn't getting anywhere. Genius though Namie might have been, she dabbled in the field of biochemistry. She was no electrician.

“Damn it!” She hissed but got back to the task at once, trying out a different rout. 

Not so robotic after all.

Shizuo was beginning to contemplate doing something ridiculously noble, self-sacrifising, and profoundly stupid, like telling Namie to leave without him. He didn't know how much time they had before the guards came in. This was the romantic thing to do, he reasoned with himself. The _rational_ thing.

Shizuo didn't like it one bit. 

Nevertheless, he shattered the glass of a hatch separating them without effort.

“Namie, listen to me. Listen--”

“Shut up, Shizu-chan!”

Something about the control panel caught his eye as her deft fingers carried on sweeping through it. Her attention was focused on the task alone and she never even noticed...

“Namie--”

“I said, shut up.”

“Look at the controls.”

“I am looking at the controls! That's all I've been doing!” She rammed the wall with her delicate fist.

“No. Take a step back and really look at them.”

Hesitantly, she did. Shizuo scooted over to the side, granting the light a clear pass. Switches were being lit one by one in apparent order. 

“Oh.” Slowly, Namie walked up to the panel and implemented the combination.

As the latching gave with an audible click, Shizuo squeezed his eyes shut, murmuring a desperate _Thank you, thank you, THANK YOU!_ to the light before grabbing the bag and dashing through the door. Namie took him by the hand and together they ran for the stairs. 

She wasn't as fast as him, and her weight would do nothing to slow him down, so at the base of the second flight of stairs, Shizuo scooched in front of her, offering a piggy-back ride. 

It was only once they were back out in the open that he allowed himself to slow the pace. Namie's arms snaked around him affectionately, her face cuddled to the side of his neck. He could hear her breath right in his ear.

“Ne, Shizu-chan.” She let out a long sigh. Her hands, interlaced over his chest, were still white in a firm clasp stifling their tremors. “Maybe Orihara was right after all and I'm just not cut out for dating. I can't seem to handle the excitement.”

Shizuo snorted.

“You and me both, Namie. You and me both.” He shook his head with a small smile. “We should cut right to the sex. Sounds way more relaxing.”

Namie broke into laughter. She pressed her soft body to his a little tighter.

“You make a strong case, Shizu-chan. Just remember, _we can't fuck at Izaya's~!_ " She mocked the informant's desperate shrill.

Shizuo didn't imagine many people were privileged to witness this side of Namie. Childish, silly. Carefree. A shame, really. She was lovely like this.

“Not that he can do anything to stop us,” Shizuo argued. “I mean, we can always take it to my place but where's the fun in that.”

"Well..." Namie said, quietly amused.

“Wait, no! Scratch that. I didn't mean it like that. Obviously.”

She was giggling in his neck.

“It would be very much, eh, _fun_. Please, stop me.”

Namie gave him a peck on the ear. “No.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm having way too much fun writing these two, can you tell?


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for animal death in this chapter. I know. I'm sorry.

Shizuo may not have been well-versed in romance but even he could tell, much to his own surprise, that the date was going well. After leaving the factory compound, together with Namie they entered a short section of a forest road leading to a commuter rail station. They were walking side by side, Namie lighting their path with her flashlight, trading remarks excitedly on everything that had happened as if it were an action movie they'd just watched together. For once, Shizuo let himself fall into easy contentment.

Everything was nice and well, so of course an apocalypse was brewing.

Heavy, thudding beat behind them was fast approaching, allowing Shizuo no moment for deliberation. He turned around just in time to see a black bundle of tense muscle flying at him with great speed. Reflexively, his arm shot out, his hand clasped tight around the animal's neck and _twisted_ in one, darting motion.

The following crack of bones was sickening. After that, everything was a blur for Shizuo. There were other dogs, encircling and growling, but once they'd had their fill of sniffing and assessing Shizo in their own, instinctual way, they pulled out in haste, some with pitiful yelps. 

There was a convulsing shape at his feet, odd angles, flailing kicks to the ground. It felt like forever.

Namie's slender body as she broke down on her knees, retching and falling into a fit of violent coughing that tore the air like it was made of paper.

Her petrified eyes on him before she took off running.

 

Shizuo would be hard pressed to tell how long he'd been standing frozen in place before a different roar reverberated in his earshot. May have been minutes or hours. 

The dullahan approached him. Light touch on his arm was like a spell bringing Shizuo back gently into his body. Celty's destrier was neighing mildly, soothingly, put on a kickstand close by.

[Shizuo, what happened here?]

“They must have set the dogs after us,” he replied absently.

[Who did? Are you alright?]

“I don't know.” He winced. “I should have run after her. 's not safe after dark in the woods.”

[Her? Who is 'her'?] 

Shizuo didn't answer. Celty's hand was on his shoulder, grounding him again.

[That's a very nice shirt you are wearing, Shizuo-kun.]

He huffed a laugh that might have taken on a frantic edge.

[Was somebody with you here tonight?]

A nod.

[Was she hurt?]

“I don't know. No.” Images streamed in flashing through his skull. “Prolly not.”

[When did she leave?]

“I don't know.”

A pause.

[Shizuo, what is my name?]

“Celty.” He gave his friend a look that hopefully conveyed something akin to _Seriously?_ rather than _Can I cry on your shoulder yet?_

“I know who you are.” He rubbed a hand across his face. “What I don't know is why you're here.”

The dullahan turned her helmet to look back for a moment before picking up her PDA.

[I'm not sure, either. I was on a job, driving down the ringway. As I was passing by the factory, suddenly I felt this urge to be with nature so I cut around the fence to make my way across the woods.]

Pensive, they both looked back to that mysterious place. 

[Hop up, Shizuo. I'm taking you home.]

There was no infliction to her tone, obviously, yet her statement breached no argument nevertheless. Shizuo picked up the kitbag and bundled it up together with himself on the bike. Celty wavered in her seat before reaching for her PDA once more.

[Maybe you should call her? Make sure she's okay.]

Shizuo should. He shook his head. He couldn't, not just yet.

[What's in the bag?]

“I don't know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The long-anticipated brutal end of Shizumie romance was purchased for the price of animal sacrifice. Rejoice.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shizu-chan being overdramatic but this is something he (more or less consciously) dreaded his whole life so give him a break.

Everything Shizuo did upon returning home was a mechanical chain of motions. First he made sure no one was on the lookout in the building, waiting in to wrest his loot. He wondered briefly what the best hiding place for it would be and decided on Sumire-san's basement. His neighbor had severe arthritis in her knees and would ask Shizuo to fetch her pickles and garden tools often enough that he'd eventually got his spare key. 

After immense amount of loitering and shuffling around, he forced himself to check his phone for messages. Just as he was thinking through different ways to express his apologies in a short text message, he found a single line from Namie.

 _I'm sorry,_ was all she wrote.

Shizuo texted her back, made sure she got back home safely, reassured her that her newly acquired possessions had been taken care of. The whole conversation took about two minutes, felt extremely strained and hastened all throughout. Shizuo squeezed his eyes shut and rammed his head into the wall.

Now that all the necessities had been taken care of, his trance-like march through the motions cut off, something he had dreaded all along even more than he had confronting Namie awaited: silence.

An onslaught of images flooded his brain. The feeling of rough hair in his palm. Warmth. The movement of his wrist that came as easy as passing salt to Kasuka at breakfast. Natural. _Familiar_ , regardless of the fact that Shizuo hadn't killed before. 

But destruction didn't run through his hands alone, did it? Had it been the case, he would have chopped them off with his santoku knife that very night. Well, one of them at least. Logistics.   
No, it was in his eyes as he measured the distance, his body as it angled exactly right, his instantaneous _decision_ to go for the neck.

Flashbacks rushed through him in relentless electric current. The sickening sound and feel to that crack. The dying process as it progressed at his feet. In his childhood, Shizuo had witnessed peaceful death. This... wasn't it. 

The other dogs that just _knew_. The flattening of their ears, the flitting gazes, the yelps as they retreated, tails tucked. 

The look of devastation on Namie's face. Her eyes so intense and engulfing that, at that moment, they'd been the sole mirror reflecting Shizuo back at himself. 

Never in his life had he felt so degraded as when Namie took off running away from him in frantic terror. The very same Namie who'd pressed her body to his without an ounce of hesitation mere minutes before. As she left, Shizuo felt like the lowest of lowlife. 

Fresh memory of their strained texting flashed unbidden through his mind. She couldn't get away fast enough from the conversation even with a city district between them.

Shizuo hadn't noticed he'd been tearing his room apart until there was nothing left in sight to clench his fists around and turn to dust. His throat was sore and absently Shizuo realized he'd been screaming. Dawn came, and with it the world went dark at long last.


	11. Chapter 11

Early afternoon that day found Shizuo knocking on the door to the informant's office, carrying a sizable basket of white orchids. Izaya flung the door open and at once was greeted by the sight of his arch enemy looming from behind the flowers. He blinked.

“Well, if it isn't a scene that should never take place in any possible universe, _ever_.”

For once, something they could agree on.

Stripes of bandages flashed from under the collar of Izaya's shirt briefly as he shifted on his feet. It wasn't unusual to see the flea taped up but most times if he resorted to his medical kit, it had been Shizuo's doing.

“What happened to you?”

“Attempted homicide,” Izaya said, promptly following it with a taunt to deflect farther inquiries. “I'll accept the flowers. Is this a get well note I see in there...?” He aimed his fingers to dig in between leaves.

Shizuo hid a small smile, taking the basket out of Izaya's reach. It was charming how the flea clung to his tricks by force of habit when they'd never worked on his arch enemy to begin with. Shizuo had seen through Izaya's bullshit from day one.

“Fine, don't tell me. Is Namie here?”

“No, and she won't be at work today at all,” Izaya perked up with a fresh dose of malice fueling his bloodstream. “As it so happens, she needs to sleep the night off.”

Shizuo frowned, waiting for the flea to elaborate.

“I can only imagine the fun you two had! As I was leaving early this morning, Namie was still making rounds between the toilet and her bedroom where she would burst into bouts of tears. Gotta hand it to you Shizu-chan, your epic failures surpass even my expectations!”

“You're lying.”

“Am I, though?” Izaya's look cut through Shizuo. In a flash, he broke into a grin. “All right, fine, my expectations for your failure have no bounds.” 

Shizuo heaved an exasperated sigh, unsure what to do next.

“Keep these for her.” He shoved the flower basket at the flea's chest. Izaya recoiled like there might have been snakes in it. “Or throw them away, I don't care.”

“You realize I'm just gonna drop this on your head when you pass by the window, right?”

Reluctantly, Izaya scooped the basket after all. Somewhere in the midst of it, a brief apology note was tucked. The informant was known to relish fine things and the orchids were actually beautiful so there was a chance he'd leave them be long enough for Namie to find.

Shizuo was about to leave then but he wavered in the doorway. “You know, you were right about me,” he heard himself speak.

“Oya, you'll make me drop 'em all too soon.” 

Izaya was watching him curiously - always a clue to stop talking for any sensible person who knew him – so of course Shizuo carried on.

“About me being a monster. Not made to be with people. All that.”

 

The first thing Shizuo saw upon waking up this day were leftover shreds of his dress shirt. He wouldn't deliberate imagery but the sinking feeling in his chest interpreted it all for him in round terms. Beyond that, there was an absolute mess of the small world that was his apartment. Even more important though was the change Shizuo recognized within. He was feeling hopeless and hollow inside, yes, but that was to be expected. The curious part was, all the tension that had held his body in a vice grip for most of his life seemed to have evaporated. No ticks or twitches. The ever present anger was gone, replaced not with calm but emptiness. 

Experimentally, still seated on the floor, Shizuo turned to the sofa and lifted it in one hand without breaking a sweat. He stared riveted at the furniture balanced on the flat of his palm for long minutes, completely in control of his every movement and the force behind it. He tossed the sofa in the air once before carefully putting it down.

 _Figures_ , he thought humorlessly, feeling like the butt of a mean joke. Of course his rage and lack of control would only stop being an issue once the ugly truth was out. He wasn't afraid of himself anymore; he _knew_. Just like that, Shizuo's body let go of a constant struggle, and a bleak kind of calm claimed him. His strength, now unrestrained, seemed to have doubled and was pliant at his fingertips.

 

As Shizuo watched the informant, another flashback of that rottweiler kicking on the ground hit him. He couldn't count the times he'd come close to going through with his threats against Izaya. He really had wanted to kill the flea. Now the thought of it made him sick. And it had nothing to do with the prospect of Izaya being actually, irrevocably gone – Shizuo was still very much on board with that. Mostly. Certainly on workdays.  
It was the killing, the hands-on experience of snuffing a human life out that Shizuo wanted to avoid at all costs, not quite believing he could.

Izaya was having a field day mocking Shizuo for his odd behavior – Shizuo didn't care, didn't really listen. Instead, he realized he'd been tuning in to a low buzz coming intermittently from a vent above the door. Shizuo looked at his hands. Not a twitch. He took a long breath and realized he was completely undisturbed.

“There's a fly trapped up there,” he said with a faint smile, cutting off Izaya's rant.

“Eh?” Izaya's eyes narrowed into slits. “Fascinating. What is it with you today?”

Long story, which Shizuo was not inclined to share.

“I can crush your skull in between my two fingers as of today,” he chose to say. “You were right about me all along, Izaya-kun.” He looked the informant in the eye. “Now start acting accordingly. 'Cause I can't promise you another warning.”

With that, Shizuo turned on his heel and started back down the corridor. Shuffling and shunting noises carried before the unmistakable scampering of feet was closing in on Shizuo. Izaya chasing after him. Strange day, indeed.

“Wait.” The flea grabbed him by the arm. Shizuo carefully allowed that and turned around to face him. Izaya's hand was still resting on his arm. Shizuo watched it with mild detachment, like someone else might watch a bug. Not pleasant, but nothing to make fuss about either. Something he could squash at will, at any time. Izaya must have sensed something, because he let go abruptly as if burned. 

“Look, if this is about what happened to Namie.” He looked rather conflicted reassuring Heiwajima Shizuo of all people but followed through. “Out of all the girls you could pick... Admittedly, that's not many.”

Not a miniscule part of Shizuo's body twitched at that. He wasn't even mildly irritated.

A little baffled, Izaya carried on after a momentary silence.

“You picked literally the only one who won't be lying to you when she says _It's not you, it's me._ ”

Shizuo huffed a mirthless laugh.

“But it is me! Izaya, I lived and breathed it. I know. There's no _unknowing_ this shit.” He slanted a look at the informant before turning back towards the exit. “Steer clear of me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A superpowered individual brooding & freaked out by his own strength. However did you come up with such an original idea, malna? *rolls eyes at self* Oh, well.
> 
> Merry Christmas! <3


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which I give Shizuo frostbite with a Namie.

Enchiladas with mole, served with refried beans and Spanish rice were the first meal Shizuo found his appetite for since lunch the previous day. They went well with Cabernet Franc Rose he was sipping now, pleasantly spilling over his insides. Shizuo supposed that taking him out for delicious and filling Mexican food in a nondescript restaurant was Namie's way of apologizing or saying thank you, maybe both, he didn't quite know. She would also be right if she had simply decided they each of them needed spadefuls of caring for and unwinding after the heist – they looked like death warmed over. The deciding factor for their evening meeting however was the due handover of Namie's kitbag.

Shizuo would have brought the bag with him when he'd visited Izaya's office earlier today but Namie had texted him that fateful night, making it clear she hadn't wanted her employer anywhere near the loot. And thus, she was currently going through the stuff, inspecting them one by one on their table. In the end, she produced the beautiful bonsai tree from the depths of her bag, and placed it in front of Shizuo.

“Your insurance.” Namie smiled at him tentatively. “I saw you eyeing it when I was plundering the inventory.”

She fished a small pair of scissors and a screw cap vial from her handbag. 

“I don't really know what it is,” she said. One leaf was clipped neat off a twig and put into the glass vessel. “Or what it does, if anything, really.” She looked through the glass before hiding it back in her handbag. “But I'm going to find out and I will let you know when I do.”

“Okay,” Shizuo said, sounding about as thrilled as he felt.

Namie misunderstood his lack of enthusiasm.

“Look,” hesitantly, she ventured. “Some of these items I stole with the sole purpose of monetizing on the black market. I need cash in order to break free from my dependency on Izaya's protection and to set up a new lab. But a lot should remain, and that becomes your share.”

“No.” Shizuo's tone brooked no argument. “You moving out of his place?”

“Yeah.” Her eyelids drooped. 

“Far?”

“Outside of Kantou.”

She wouldn't meet his eyes. The air between them felt thick, seconds ticking by through it agonizingly slow. Shizuo cleared his throat.

“Right. Take it with you.” He passed the bonsai on the table Namie's way. “I can't think of a good place to stash it without troubling anybody. And frankly, I just want to forget all about it.”

Namie stared at him incredulously. 

“Don't you understand, Shizuo? If the police come after you, this is the only thing to get you out of trouble.”

“I get that.” Shizuo sighed. “But it'll be safer with you anyway. And you'll know what to do if things go south. I trust you.”

Namie blinked. She looked at him as if he'd just entrusted a vampire with his firstborn. 

“You didn't leave me in the underground when the alarm went off,” he reminded her.

“Shizu-chan...” Namie's voice broke. She looked so lost and miserable. Worn out. She squeezed her eyes shut tight and took her time mustering the courage to meet his gaze straight on.

“You must know I had stayed for the bag, right? I couldn't leave without it.”

Shizuo felt stricken and seriously wondered how much more sheer _fail_ this evening could take before crushing down on both their heads.

“I know that!” He banged his fist on the table, which did little in terms of covering his embarrassment. “'m not stupid.”

“It's by no means stupid to assume your partner would try and get you out of dire straits, Shizuo,” Namie protested. “It should be normal to expect that. But keep messing around with the likes of me and Izaya and it _will_ be stupid of you to keep that mindset.”

She shoves the bonsai right back under Shizuo's nose.

“I don't want anything to do with it no more! Just drop it, okay? I don't care what happens to me,” he said in one breath. The words came as somewhat of a surprise even to himself.

Namie regarded him with careful deliberation. She took her time before speaking out.

“Look at me, Shizu-chan.” He did, and was met with absolute resolve painted all over her posture. “Just because you feel like everything in your life is falling apart, doesn't mean you get to let go of the reins. In fact, this is the worst time for that.”

Shizuo thought her eyes were turning a little glazed over.

“So this is what you're gonna do. You're going to finish your enchiladas and get a refill on your wine. You're going to stash this scrub somewhere even I can't find and you're not going to tell anyone but your brother about it. When was the last time you slept for more then three hours? Wait, I have pills--” She reached for her handbag.

“No.”

“All right. But one way or another, you need to sleep it off. When you wake up tomorrow, you're going to start your day with a shower and from then on, you're going to focus on taking back control of your life, piece by maddeningly small piece. You can go to work, you can see a therapist, start a small earthquake in Ikebukuro or you can kill Izaya - whatever works, I support it. And no government lackeys will have power to mess up your progress.” She let out a long sigh and shunted the bonsai back to Shizuo. “So there, your home assignment, Shizu-chan.”

Shizuo huffed a mirthless laugh. “It's as if you care.”

“I do care.” She shook her head, a ghost of a smile tugging at her lips. “You're so _easy_ to care about, I don't think you have the first clue. It's unfair, really, how easy. But then, I'm on my path and once you step on it, you're as good as dead. This is the kind of person I am.”

“So maybe that makes me stupid,” Shizuo said. “Maybe I'm stupid for seeking out people who are no good for me. But it's not up for you to decide who I'm supposed to deal with. It's my decision.”

“Well, technically, I should think I have a say in whether we keep in touch or not. But in a broader sense, I suppose you're right. It is your decision.” She reclined in her chair with a hollow thud, tipping her head back. “It's a stupid ass decision, though.”

“Yeah, I think I covered that.”

“Yet I wonder.” Namie was smiling to herself, far-away gaze darting through the ceiling. “Why I can't bring myself to think any less of you for it.”

From then on, Shizuo and Namie shared silence and more wine between them. It didn't feel as heavy or uncomfortable as it had before. Namie reiterated her offer to look into the origins of Shizuo's strength. Shizuo firmly declined. He had all the answers he never wanted already. He experienced his own nature in the most raw and brutal way. Neither mechanisms nor origins could ever change a thing about it.

As they were about to part their ways, Namie stood straight in front of Shizuo, her expression more solemn than ever.

“Most people tend to think I must be ashamed of who I am. That guilt must be eating me up. Even Izaya seems to operate under that impression, and he is not prone to hasted assumptions. I suppose this is just one of those things we talked about, that should be natural, and this is why people expect that of me. The truth is, I'm not ashamed. Quite the contrary, actually.

“I am not the type to fall for common delusions, like the notion that people deserve rights just for the virtue of existence. I know people far better than most. Way back when, I had spent a lot of time watching them. I don't see why I should owe them any kindness and I refuse to grant it. I happen to be a very capable individual. There isn't much that I can't achieve when I put my mind into it. And I use people rather casually to meet my goals. I see no fault in that. Human rights are not actually inborn, they are a construct conceived to maintain order and a sense of security within the human herd. People go through their entire mundane lives, without purpose, without stirring things up in the herd, because a bunch of privileged individuals reap profits from this state of things. It never has been about ethics, it's about efficiency. So no, I'm not ashamed of myself for not falling for that. I play my own game and I use my skills to pursue what I treasure the most. And I'm especially proud of what I hold dear.

“That said, being around you, Shizuo, made me genuinely wish at times – just moments – that I was different. That I were someone who I am not.”

She bowed deeply. With that, she left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...and a happy New Year!
> 
> (I'm feeling so shaky about this story today. Ehhh... Help?)


	13. Stages of grief

For the longest time, Shizuo's hatred for Izaya used to trouble himself most of all. Well, it wasn't just the hatred; people hated Orihara Izaya because they had crossed paths with him and there was hardly a mystery to it. Unlike everybody else however, Shizuo had loathed the flea on sight. And it was peculiar not only because the bastard knew how to make a good first impression – his work, for one, depended on it – but also because Shizuo just wasn't the type to reject a person for no reason. He had found himself on the bad end of that too many times.

The day Shinra introduced them, Shizuo could tell right away that everything about Izaya overflowed with fake. Not a single tick, grimace, sound, or look coming from him was genuine, and for some reason he couldn't put a finger on, it aggravated Shizuo to no end. 

At that point, it would have been easy for Shizuo to just give himself a mental pat on the back for his impeccable instincts on people and move on, only he never had been any good at letting go when Izaya was concerned. At not chasing after a glimpse, a scent, a trace or apparently even a mere thought of the flea.

This was why eventually Shizuo had to admit to himself that he'd met his fair share of dishonest people (and no one entirely honest, for that matter - it was a spectrum) and never once had he been as bothered by them as he was by his arch-nemesis. _Of course, why would you be!_ , his mind bridled at him. The idea of hurling things at politicians almost made him laugh. But why? Plenty of them were duplicitous, and arguably did more damage than Izaya ever could.

But neither the politicians nor the neighbor who always smiled at Shizuo whilst filing numerous complaints against him to the housing association, none of them ever came close to making Shizuo desperate like Izaya did. Desperate to crack him open and poke the insides out for licking off his fingers.

Not even close.

For that reason alone, Shizuo had always been quite aware of this all-consuming _want_ that ran way deeper than simple attraction. The attraction, however, didn't help the matters either. The very sight of Izaya, his smell, the timbre of his voice, the way he moved, all of that drove Shizuo crazy because - struggling for each and every ounce of control to begin with - he could not hope to hold down both his rage at Izaya's bullshit _and_ his attraction to him at the same time.

As a teenager, when in the shower, Shizuo would take himself in the hand and close his eyes, drowning himself in the make-believe where he took Izaya apart ever so gently, shattered him to the core with affection mercilessly inflicted through pleasure. Like this, he would get to really see him, make him fall apart and need it forever more. He would get to keep him.

Not that Shizuo would ever do anything about this fantasy. After all, he was just a boy with a hopeless crush on another boy, cold and sharp as the knife he'd always carried on his person.

It soon became apparent that Izaya had no interest in building relationships, he only ever indulged in casual hook-ups. Shizuo's heart broke a little but still he fantasized like a naïve schoolgirl that with him it would be different. That he, Heiwajima Shizuo, would be special. They would wake up together, and have breakfast together, and Izaya would smile at him and want him to stay.  
Fap-material aside, Shizuo was actually neither a schoolgirl, nor was he naïve. He knew better than to put to test exactly how special Izaya found him. The flea had always been open about his physical attraction to Shizuo, so a one-night stand was on the table, should Shizuo take a chance. Should he, though? He wasn't cut out for this, he wouldn't do it even with a complete stranger. With Izaya of all people, it would be the last straw. It would destroy him.

By the time it turned out how deeply flawed a person Izaya was, Shizuo felt betrayed. For the first time, his feelings for the other man moved from passionate loathing to actual hatred. Shizuo had managed two brief relationships in this period. He would never think about fucking Izaya when he was with either of his partners, not just because it would be appalling but also because at that point, the only kind of intimacy he could envision having with Izaya was hate-sex.  
And he never would have pursued this venue either, for the simple reason that Izaya was not likely to survive it if he had. Whereas the thought of killing the flea wormed its way into Shizuo's heart with every fight, this was the last way he would ever go about it.

 

After the events of that ill-fated night at the factory compound, for the first time in his life Shizuo realized there was nothing holding him back anymore. Every hope he might have held out, for finding his way, fitting in, for having a loving relationship – they'd been all snuffed out. He had no expectations whatsoever any more. He was hollow. And with nothing to protect or fight for, the rage dulled out as well.  
In some convoluted way, Shizuo figured it made sense to finally let go and debase himself by the means of Orihara Izaya. Roll in the dirt that the other man was and exploit the rotten bond between them. He might find comfort in it, even. Not being alone in the grunge. Maybe he did find his place after all. Maybe this was simply acceptance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Today I spoke with a close friend of mine. "Behold, the epiphany!" I proclaimed. "Think of a friend you know irl. But, unlike it was our case, you haven't met her online, it's only ever been rl. You would never talk to her about fanfiction or yaoi. You're not even that person around her, I would assume. Together the two of you exist on a different plane. Now, imagine after you die, you find out it was the same on her side all along."
> 
> This chapter is a lot about that. :)


	14. Visible

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "What's it going to take to make me visible?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How could I forget? Thank you for all your wonderful comments after the previous chapter! Your response blew me away. ♡
> 
> Sorry for the late update but at least it's a little longer!

Things didn't happen just because Shizuo had developed an idea within his skull. One that should probably be surgically removed and then treated with antimatter just to stay on the safe side. 

Whenever his path crossed with the flea's these days, Izaya would make increasingly ridiculous and desperate attempts to rile Shizuo up. None of them worked with Shizuo's new found gallows brand of zen. But Izaya wouldn't call it quits and leave him be. Quite the contrary, despite Shizuo's earlier warning - or because of it - his antics had ramped up both in frequency and intensity, hemming Shizuo in. At first, the surge of all the taunts and mischief was perplexing but in time Shizuo realized Izaya had put his life on hold, throwing in his creative power and every effort just to _get to him_ , and he recognized it for what it was: fear. Fear building up to sheer panic with every futile jab at assault.

Shizuo wasn't sure what to make of it and he didn't particularly care, except he worried that this much anxiety didn't leave room for his projected gambit of sex proposal. In fact, he had tried the direct and straightforward approach in the early after-the-incident days, and he was not exactly successful.

 

“Thought I told you to stay away from me, flea,” Shizuo had snarled at the informant flitting in the glow of street lanterns, weaving in between them as if on a jungle gym.

“What can I say?” He smirked. “I missed you.”

In the ideal world, Shizuo would have gladly proceeded right there and then with pinning Izaya to the nearest flat surface around and kissing him stupid. He thought it had the advantage of being plenty communicative while minimizing the awkwardness. But in the ideal world where he could catch Izaya to do any of this, the man would have been long dead. By Shizuo's hand.

Shizuo frowned, squinting at his enemy, who carried on with the taunts. 

“The stench of self loathing, the dashing charisma of a debt collector, showing black roots of depression... I can't help myself. I'm doomed to follow you around.” 

“Wanna get it out of your system?”

Izaya's whirling around a lamp post came to a dead stop. He cut a sharp look at Shizuo. Carefully, he took out his knife.

“No, I mean--” Shizuo let out a frustrated huff. The other man was watching him curiously, arching an elegant eyebrow.

“You _know_ what I mean.” The flea wouldn't have reacted so sharply otherwise. “D'you wanna fuck or not.”

Izaya was staring at him with extremely blank expression. He blinked, lowering his knife absently and Shizuo ventured a step towards him. Izaya choose this moment to burst into manic, shrilling laughter right in Shizuo's face. There was nothing amused about it, just Izaya's trademark mental laced with cruel mockery. 

“ _Smooth_ , Shizu-chan!”

But Shizuo had already turned on his heel and was walking off, unshaken.

“Looked in the mirror lately?” Izaya was shouting behind him. “You look like death warmed over. If I were into fucking dead people walking, I would've been mooning over Namie long ago!”

Izaya's laugh was taking on a slightly deranged edge, fading out in a distance, and Shizuo had a fleeting thought that, despite the rejection, this brief exchange took its toll on the flea more than it did on himself.

“Just so we're clear, you damaged protozoan, that was a no!”

 

Interestingly enough, Izaya only ever became more invested in making Shizuo's life a hell after that incident. Still, none of his numerous attempts at picking a fight, getting Shizuo to chase after him, getting the local gangs to chase after Shizuo – nothing had made a desired impact and in fact Shizuo had been following the events unfolding before him more and more like circus stunts.

Distantly, Shizuo noticed that the flea was getting even more antsy and agitated than usual with each passing week but he'd paid no mind to it, up until he had literally been hit in the face with a snowball. 

Apparently, Izaya stooped to throwing snowballs at his arch nemesis now. There was such impotence incorporated in that offense, such blatant helplessness to it, and it was written all over Izaya, currently packing all his frustration into throwing the snow.

“Seriously?” Shizuo couldn't hold back his genuine laugh at that. “Are you twelve? No, I'm sure you were much more dangerous at twelve.” Unawares, he was smiling at the flea who all of a sudden seemed to have lost all his momentum. Instead, an impression of deep, bone relief settled in all over his demeanor. His arm stilled and went back down, snow dropping off. 

Shizuo imagined Izaya stuck on a notoriously damaged Mir space station, frantically sending signals all over the place and monitoring every bit of space for any response. Izaya seemed incapable of forming interpersonal connections like other people did. Instead, he would poke and prod in hopes of eliciting reaction, just to shake off the maddening feeling of being suspended in a void of crowds.

“I was,” he said softly. “Only there was no snow, you see. I was raised on Okinawa. So in the end my misconduct sent us moving here when I was in middle school.”

“I can believe that,” Shizuo smirked. “I had to change schools twice because of my temper.”

“Well, I had more panache.”

“Surprising no one.”

Izaya grinned. He was walking across a snowy plain and Shizuo hadn't even taken notice when he'd fallen in step alongside him.

“Why did you move here?” Shizuo asked.

“I'd say Tokyo area was an obvious choice, don't you think? My father was able to transfer jobs right away and besides, it's a lot harder to trace calamities back to me between fourteen million possible starting points.” Izaya's smile turned a little wistful. “I guess this was the deciding factor.”

Shizuo snorted at that. “Your schemes reek of you. There's no mismatching them.”

“Come off it already, I don't stink. Would it kill you to admit it's as if I have my unique artist's signature?”

Shizuo hummed, holding back a smile. “It's possible.” 

“That it would kill you or that I'm one of a kind?”

“I wonder.”

Izaya stomped on Shizuo's boot, but it only resulted with him cracking that smile already.

“I still haven't figured out how you always know," the informant said. "I can hornswoggle trained investigators off my trail but not you.”

Shizuo shrugged. 

Izaya let out a long-suffering whine. “It's annoying. But!” He trotted a few steps and whirled around, walking backwards. “Apt as you may be at spotting my schemes, you can't exactly anticipate them.”

There was a glint in the flea's eyes that meant horrid things awaited Shizuo in near future.

“Ne, Shizu-chan, let's make a bet.”

Willing to make bets with Orihara Izaya must have figured among diagnostic criteria for a good chunk of mental disorders. 

“No.”

“Oh, come on, you haven't even heard--”

“No.”

“I bet I can make you chase after me within minutes.”

“You can't.”

Izaya's chest rambled with silent laugh.

“Sure I can.”

Shizuo squinted at the pest. “What if I win this bet?”

“Let me think.” Izaya spread his arms out. “I'll have sex with you.”

“Generous,” Shizuo deadpanned. “Do you even realize how insulting that was?”

“Of course!” Izaya looked delighted. “I enjoy insulting you.”

Shizuo growled and turned left. Izaya caught up with him at once.

“It's not like you get to be picky!”

Shizuo huffed in frustration. He was oddly tempted to throw some snowballs.

“See? I'm half way there, you'll be running after me in no time.”

“I won't.” Of this, Shizuo was certain. The flea was even more annoying a pest than ever but his own temper was dead now. “What if you win?”

“I'm so glad you asked!” Izaya was practically gloating now. “Should I win, you will get to ask me one question after today – any kind of question – and I promise to answer it truthfully best to my knowledge.”

“That makes zero sense,” Shizuo frowned. “In more ways than one.”

“Either way, you benefit from it, Shizu-chan~!” Izaya lilted.

“This is a trick.”

“Obviously.” Izaya smirked.

“And you can't just make me run after you anyway.”

“Then there should be no problem.”

“Fine!” Shizuo frowned. He was determined not to collect on his projected victory, still he couldn't help but be slightly intrigued by all this against his better judgment. “Do your worst.”

Izaya stopped in his tracks.

“Do you know where we're standing, Shizu-chan?”

Shizuo looked around, taking in the plains of whiteness Izaya had led them out at, some trees looming in the distance.

“On a glade in the park?”

“Ah.” Izaya produced a lighter, then a handful of firecrackers from an inside pocket of his jacket. Firecrackers that looked more like sticks of dynamite and were likely infused with TNT. He lit them all up at once. “A pond, actually. Not far from the ground, if you know which way to go. I do.”

He tossed the squibs at Shizuo's feet and took off running.

Well, _shit_.

Shizuo dashed after him. Following the blasts, he could feel the ice cracking beneath his feet, and for the first time since the factory, he felt a thrill spilling all over his body, uncoiling something within him and it made him laugh even as he ran so fast he could almost catch up with Izaya.

With this brunt and momentum, Shizuo chased after the flea for the longest time that day, until he found himself completely out of breath, thoroughly exhausted, in the outskirts of town. 

For the first time in weeks, he slept soundly all night through. As he woke up in the morning he smiled to himself, an odd sense of fondness and completely misplaced gratitude filling his heart to the brim.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So far, my take on Shizaya turns out a carbon copy of [Stefan/Katherine from TVD](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NQjqMY3j8zc). Ships seem to follow me around in different incarnations.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Do I wanna know?](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=a3D9E-3vNkc)

“How do you wanna die?” would have been the obvious choice just two months before.

“What, outside of murder, would get you off my back for good?” “What incriminating facts about you can I use the next time you decide to mess with my life?” “Where do your sisters live?”

Sensible questions.

 

“What do you fear the most?” “What would it take to break you?”

Ambiguous. Warmer.

“How do I stop Ikebukuro from burning down?” “Where did Namie go?” “Was the moon landing fake?”

No.

“Do you really believe I'm a monster?” “Why won't you just leave me be?” “Why _me_?” 

 

“Don't you get tired of it?” 

“Has it ever made you cry?”

“Do you ever hope for something better?” “What do you want in life?” 

“Do you happen to go for tall, lanky guys?”

Ughhh...

 

“How do you like your coffee?” "Did you know your eyes turn brighter shade when you're not so tense?"

“Why are you such a pain?” “Is it a gift or do you have to work on it?” “How to permanently ban you from the Chat Room?”

“How to block you from my life?” 

“Are you free tonight?”

 

Izaya's trick had become apparent quickly enough.

Shizuo's choice of the question would be plenty informative about his motives and what mattered to him - particularly where the other man was concerned - while any answer Izaya would give in turn was obviously unreliable. But even the slight possibility that there might be truth to his answer, some sliver of insight Shizuo would be privileged to, just that was too tempting to let pass and ask a meaningless question instead, which would be the safe way out. 

And that, in itself, conveyed information for Izaya as well.

In the end, Shizuo opted for the trustiest method of (not) dealing with complex matters known to mankind: procrastination.

 

Meanwhile, Shizuo and Izaya had reestablished their routine of racing around and wreaking havoc in Ikebukuro since their - more than just proverbial - breaking the ice. However, their old dynamic had changed and grown into something new. This shift wouldn't have been possible if Shizuo himself hadn't changed first, this much he knew. The tension, the uncontrollable rage no longer took a hold of him. The murderous intent behind it all had entirely evaporated. 

If Shizuo was honest with himself, what was left was actually... _fun_. He knew it always had been, only shrouded with anger and self loathing. Now that these had been lifted, joy surged freely, and Shizuo could see how it had changed the way they interacted with each other, how it elevated them every time and unleashed the energy to light up and upturn the better part of Tokyo.

 

It was this joy and light-headedness that finally caused Izaya to slip. 

Well, first it was Shizuo who literally slipped and fell face down in the snow covering a remote, icy alleyway after a long, exhausting run intermittent with breaking city property and hurling it all over the place. Izaya was laughing like the sight was everything he'd ever dreamed of while Shizuo struggled to muster focus and energy to lift even a finger in his body. Still not quite getting a hold of his laughter, Izaya leaped off a balustrade to come down to him. 

“Oi!” He kicked Shizuo in the head. “Are you properly dead?”

That was the slip, uncharacteristically careless of Izaya.

Shizuo's arm shot up in a flash and his hand clasped in a steel grip around the flea's ankle like shackles. He pulled, sharply, swaying the other man off his feet and, before Izaya could regain his bearings, Shizuo maneuvered him on his back and scooped to pin under his own weight. He lifted himself on one elbow and was a little startled to see Izaya's eyes looking back at him with apparent fear.

This apprehension was so misplaced now, Izaya didn't have the first clue. This evoked a genuine, tentatively delighted smile on Shizuo's lips, just because he knew he was about to gently dismantle Izaya's fears of him, eliciting and taking them out one by one.

Eyes half closed and soft smile, slowly Shizuo leaned down, leaving room for Izaya to push him away if he chose to. Izaya's hand fisted around the lapel of Shizuo's jacket, holding him close as Shizuo gently pried his lips apart. Izaya melted into the kiss and it took awhile before Shizuo moved from that warmth to leave traces of open-mouthed kisses along his jawline, down his neck to the collarbone he would suck on agonizingly slow, flicking his tongue over soothingly, their bodies constantly pressing together. As his kisses moved back up the side of Izaya's neck, Izaya's whole body was already writhing beneath him, warm puffs of hasted breaths breaking against his skin.

“Take me home with you, Shizu-chan.” Izaya's voice was soft, if a little shaky.

“Mmm.” Momentarily, Shizuo captured his lips in his own again. “I haven't won that bet.”

Izaya huffed a silent laugh that sounded a bit desperate. “Fuck you.” 

And that this was the best retort he could come up with at the time was going to Shizuo's head. One swift motion had him risen to his feet and Izaya picked up along the process without effort.

“We're in luck. I wouldn't go through with it on a bet.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anybody still reading this? If I messed up, please let me know all about it! x)  
> Comments keep me afloat.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Super brief chapter entirely interchangeable with the summary: "the sex was good". (Duh, it's fanfiction.)

Izaya was still fast asleep when Shizuo woke up the next morning and for that, Shizuo was immensely grateful as he could feel his internal freak out approaching with the force of a tsunami.

He stepped into the shower and let the strong water current splash against his skin with a noise that cut away everything outside of his thoughts.

How could he have been so _stupid_?

He had thought that the hollowness he'd felt inside, together with years of bad blood between him and Izaya, had been enough of a barrier to keep him safe. Or maybe he'd never quite believed that was the case, just convinced himself enough to finally let it happen, consequences be damned. Well, now they were ready to stare him in the face in the harsh light of day. 

Shizuo had had sex before but nothing could have prepared him for last night. He'd never have imagined anything in this life could feel so overwhelmingly _right_ , from the smallest of touches down to the intensity, to how in tune they'd turned out to be, how they'd just fit - and none of that even scratched the surface of how last night had affected Shizuo.

Worse still, he felt as if he'd always known, on some level, that it would be like this; it was part of the reason behind all this maddening dance they'd been enacting together for years. The difference was vast still, now that they'd looked the reality of it directly in the eye.

There was no emergency plan for a scenario where any person – let alone his sworn enemy, the manipulative, exploitative Orihara Izaya – didn't just have the key to unleash Shizuo; he himself _was_ the key. Every little way he was, with everything he said and did. He was the key to _Shizuo_ just by the dubious virtue of his vile existence, he always had been.

He was still a total prick. 

Izaya was renowned for his unique ability to elicit the content of people's hearts, twist it and turn against them, mostly for his own entertainment. But, to Shizuo's best knowledge, never before had he the enticing opportunity to play with such strong feelings that were all for him, and how could he let it pass? 

For some reason, such was the person who evoked and brought forth Shizuo's true self. Who made him feel alive. What could go wrong? 

In a lonely, deeply hidden corner of his heart, Shizuo allowed himself a moment of grief for the very best thing he'd ever got a glimpse of. 


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Hollow](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8IPGla-zMI0) should be _the_ song for this whole story - still is, in my heart - if only I could make it porny enough. Alas. 
> 
> After a whole lot of whining on my part, about my persistent inability to write slash and porn in particular, my wonderful friend took her help so far as to tutor me in saying 'penis'. It is a real event that has claimed its coordinates in spacetime. Now look what you've done.  
> This chapter is for you, judith.

Izaya kicked the door shut behind them as his mouth carried on assaulting the expanse of skin on Shizuo's neck. Shizuo was peeling Izaya off his clothes one by one, releasing burn of body heat along with urgent, haphazard exploration. He was playing with the hems of fabric, fingertips teasing their way underneath, palms spreading and gliding over bare skin.

Shizuo was being walked backwards, cut off and corralled from the front by Izaya's onslaught, till the back of his knees touched with the bedside. Looping his arm behind Izaya's waist, Shizuo spun them around and collapsed onto one hand, dipping them in a thick and puffy comforter that creaked like fresh snow.

The sight of Izaya's toned body spread out bare and exposed for Shizuo to watch, touch, have, glassy eyes brimming with need - all of that was driving warm surges of pleasure directly to his groin. Shizuo explored smooth planes of skin with his lips, tongue, and fingertips, coaxing delicious broken little sounds from Izaya, who – surprising no one – was entirely shameless. 

Peppering the hollow of Izaya's belly with feather-light kisses, hands wandering, skating across his sides, palming his ass in a fondling grip, Shizuo drunk in his lover's rising desperation that was going to his head just as well. Hugging the writhing body tighter in his warm embrace, he licked across Izaya's navel and blew a puff of air on the wet stripe before drawing back to look the other man in the eye while playfully scratching at his ass cheek.

“What do you want?”

“Now's the time you're getting mild-mannered. Like you would let me--” Izaya was cut off by a firm nip on the side of his belly, tickling enough to send a jolt through him. 

At this point, Shizuo couldn't tell for sure what he would or wouldn't let Izaya do to him. What he would do for him. If what Izaya wanted was his worst enemy's head on a platter, in his mind Shizuo would at least look through his dinnerware.

Shizuo hooked his arm around Izaya's thigh, smoothed his palm down the softness of skin drawing close to the erection straining in his pants. Played with the fabric over the groin.

“Want you to fuck me,” Izaya breathed.

Shizuo did, but first he took his sweet time with him.

First he took off Izaya's pants the moment he lifted his hips, seeking friction. Shizuo's palms smoothed over bare skin of Izaya's back to settle on the round haunches, cupping and kneading. His tongue swiped a strip up Izaya's throbbing cock before he took its length into the wet warmth of his mouth in one fell swoop, and sucked. 

Izaya gasped as his hips arched up and Shizuo found ease in adjusting to him, following his moves. Propped strong on his forearms, two firm handfuls spanning Izaya's ass, he was tipping his hips like chalice to his mouth. 

As he drew back, lips hooping and teasing at the neck of Izaya's cock, Shizuo applied a little more pressure as he sucked on the head once more. Izaya had been watching him transfixed until that moment when he'd thrashed his head back onto the pillow with a hissed curse. Shizuo shifted and let the reddening erection slip out of his mouth. 

He hunched over the bedside and swiftly rummaged his nightstand to pull out a bottle of lube and a condom. He tossed the condom aside on the comforter for now and poured a generous amount of liquid onto his hand. As he warmed it up with his fingers, Shizuo made himself comfortable between the spread of Izaya's long legs again. He set about nibbling and licking around like it was his private buffet. His tongue nudged at Izaya's balls before scooping them in a fleeting sweep. He made hickeys on fair skin of his inner thighs.

Izaya was protesting against the negligence of his cock as evident in his every movement but at the same time he clearly enjoyed the torturous fondling too much to voice his objections yet. Shizuo rubbed the cleft between the cheeks with his slicked-up fingertips, warm, steady and slow. Fingers teased Izaya's hole, wriggled and whirled together before one ducked in to the first knuckle at the same time that Shizuo's mouth wrapped back around Izaya's cock and slid _down_.

“Shizuo.” There was tenderness to Izaya's voice that Shizuo never had thought this timbre was capable of, let alone imagined it wrapped around the sounds of his name.

Shizuo seized the moment when Izaya's body turned so much more pliant from being tightly locked in the clutches of stimulation, and breached him with two fingers, pushing them deeper in, hardly met with any resistance. 

“Oh.” Izaya let out a breathy little broken moan and his thrashing gave way to more fluid, deliberate slight rolls of hips. 

But he couldn't make a move without feeling sweet shifts of pressure in the sides of his hole, without the slick slide of mouth on his dick. 

Shizuo got as much as four fingers inside him, and by the time he did, something within Izaya seemed to have shattered. Given in. As Shizuo's fingers carried on jostling in the silky warm clutch, filling it up, Izaya's whole body turned boneless and pliant. His hand found its way to the blonde mop of hair but it wasn't guiding. Just there.

Shizuo glanced up at him and, for a moment, he was seized by the ridiculous fear that somehow he'd landed himself in a parallel universe. One where Izaya would look at him like this. Soft, vulnerable, _open_ but really, there were no words for it. Only a shiver. Literal shiver that prickled down Shizuo's body, from a _look_.

“Won't last long like this.” Izaya said. “Shizuo, _please_. I want to come on your cock.”

Shizuo would have a real hard time processing his emotions right now if it hadn't been for the steady roar of desire pulsing through his veins, overriding everything else.

Pulling his fingers free, Shizuo let Izaya's cock slip out of his mouth with a filthy pop. He reached for the condom left nearby on the bed when Izaya's hand covered his own to gently stop him.

It was so unexpected, the tenderness of his touch, the sweetness to the gesture. 

“Second thoughts?” Shizuo said, putting effort to keep his voice clear of inflection.

Izaya huffed a chuckle. “What thoughts?” 

“...”

“No. But do we need this?” Izaya tapped one finger on Shizuo's hand. “I'm clean.”

This was absurd and plain stupid, so why hadn't Shizuo turned down the suggestion yet? It's not like they could trust each other, except to stir trouble. 

Shizuo tossed the condom aside in a pronounced lob. Stupid. So stupid that his stupid face cracked into a stupid grin.

The prospect of being so close and intimate, of feeling Izaya's bare flesh, tender and susceptible, clutching warm all over his cock, struck Shizuo hot and heady. He felt as if possessed by the force of nature that was his raw desire. Eyes trained with single-minded focus on the man beneath him, Shizuo hooked Izaya's knees on his forearms and curled the long legs around his middle. 

Having slicked up his dick, he pushed in, blunt, hot, and swollen, in one steady dive - not rushed but not leaving Izaya any time to collect himself either before Shizuo was all the way in, pressing hard. He stayed buried deep like this for a long, perfect moment. Then he breached him farther yet as he lowered his torso, pinning Izaya fast to the mattress, stuffing him full of his cock. He leaned all the way down to claim his mouth as well in a plundering kiss. Izaya moaned into it, only causing Shizuo to go deeper.

His hand scrabbled for Izaya's. Shizuo laced their fingers together and drew their interlocked hands up and next to Izaya's head where he'd pinned them into the pillow. 

Only then did Shizuo move, a small shove, more like a harder press in, really. Izaya's full haunches nestled to his hips, only ever giving him more leeway. 

Wet dribble had been rocked out of the corner of Izaya's eye and found its way across his temple. Shizuo traced it with his tongue, sultry and unabashed. Izaya whimpered and thrashed against Shizuo's weight he'd found himself completely covered with and trapped under but it was futile. Rolling his hips in steady, lazy pulses as he pleased, Shizuo nibbled at Izaya's earlobe where the stray tears had led his tongue. Warm, wet pant burst against Izaya's ear as Shizuo spoke roughly before drawing back.

“Look at me.”

Izaya did.

There was startling openness to the lock of their gazes. Like this, Izaya looked run over and thoroughly wrecked by the force of lust, and it was all Shizuo's doing. 

Rising a notch, Shizuo shot his arm out to the headboard where he'd braced his weight on one hand. Shizuo was fucking slow and deep into Izaya, relentless, succumbed completely to the lust that took possession of his body. His eyes burned with intensity, like they knew this to be an imprinting moment in a lifetime.

They came within seconds of each other. As they approached the peak, Shizuo dropped onto Izyaya's body like dead weight. He wrapped himself all over the other man, warm and tight swaddling bands of flesh. He sucked on his shoulder and plowed into him ferociously even as Izaya cried out loud, tightening around Shizuo in a way that made his vision go white as winter of sugar.

Shizuo wanted to do right by Izaya, he really did. To at least check if he was fine, thought about fetching a washcloth soon as he'd pulled out. But there was wetness on his own cheeks, the last thing Shizuo would remember before passing out.

 

To keep himself from falling apart and into the mess of anxiety, Shizuo went through his morning routine diligently, if mechanically. He let out a breath he hadn't known he'd been holding finding Izaya still asleep in his bed when he'd stepped out of the bathroom. 

Shizuo produced a set of new clothes from his wardrobe and, on the afterthought, picked an armful of items that roughly matched Izaya's size, in case the other man objected to old threads after shower. He left them on the bed, dressed, and made a beeline for the kitchenette. 

Bursts of crisp, cold air jammed in as he'd flung the windowpanes open. Outside it was snowing and kids were already playing. Their energizing laughter carried, infecting Shizuo with a smile. He turned on his favorite radio station, low volume. Familiar female voice settled in his ears snugly, telling him all about a flipper games' museum opening in Ikebukuro, then interviewing a bunch of oddballs that dabbled in fanfiction.

Shizuo collected all the necessary ingredients and settled into preparing ginger rice for two. 

It was easy now, to follow through with all this once he'd made his decision after bouts of thinking earlier in the shower.

So yes, this was Orihara Izaya sleeping in his bed, which meant this whole thing promised calamity and destruction. Obviously he should cut it off at once if he wanted to live and not suffer horribly. He should protect himself. 

But to what end?

Why did people guard their lives if not for the best things these lives had to offer? For the treasures that would fill their days, keep these days from turning into empty frames. If Shizuo had to give up his best thing in order to protect his life, what was he even protecting?

So yes, this was going to hurt bad when it blew up in his face. Maybe it would take him with the blast. Even so. When this one perfect thing that made Shizuo feel on top of the world holding a whispered secret of the universe in his hand, when it breaks. When that happens,

It won't be by his hand.


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just Shizuo being a perfect ~~boyfriend.~~ ~~fuckbuddy.~~ ~~enemy with benefits?~~ ...just Shizuo being perfect, nuff said.

Cutting off a chilly breeze, Shizuo shut the window when Izaya shuffled into the bathroom.

Half way through peeling the ginger, he started to feel stupid for all the fuss of his inner turmoil. After all, given Izaya's record, last night may very well be all there was to it. No devious plan to worry about, no follow-ups. 

Shizuo couldn't fathom how this could be possible. He didn't think last night was anything like Izaya's usual hook-ups, but what did he know. Still, Shizuo couldn't imagine anyone living through such experience with random people and shaking it off the next day to move along. 

No, it had been way too intense and intimate for that. Shizuo didn't think Izaya had meant for it to be. Didn't think it was something Izaya had willingly allowed, more like Shizuo had _taken_ on instinct, and it had come naturally.

But what did he know, really.

“Morning, Shizu-chan!” Izaya chirped, reaching sub-zero authenticity.

He looked good, nearly steaming in the cold room with heat and cleanliness from the shower, wrapped in Shizuo's clothes, hair spiked with water. Then again, when didn't Izaya look good.

“Annoying,” Shizuo growled without heat, and this seemed to have a favorable effect of easing some tension off Izaya's shoulders.

“I only seem annoying because Shizu-chan hasn't had his morning tea yet.”

As it turned out, Izaya was quite a tea buff. 

First, he inspected the kitchenette for supplies while asking Shizuo endless questions about items he'd never held in his possession, never heard of before, some of which Shizuo was sure Izaya had made up on the spot. Confronted with a wall of boxes of teabags in a cupboard, he wrinkled his nose before he'd procured a pouch of loose green tea from behind. Thereafter, Shizuo's fanciful guest whined about having to make do without a kettle with thermostat or a tea infuser.

Shizuo allowed all that with his new found stoicism, busy fluffying up rice with a paddle. He recognized Izaya's frantic preparations for what they were, just a need for something to do in face of uncharted air between them.

Izaya was usually in control of the situation, and with it came a certain elegance to his demeanor. Currently though, he was all over the place, a little too loud - all in all quite unlike himself. Absently, Shizuo took notice of how his guest would try to position himself between Shizuo and the exit at every time, possibly without even realizing. Apparently, some habits died hard and it took more than one night, no matter how eventful, to rewrite behavioral patterns that were crucial for survival. Shizuo couldn't know if they were to have more nights, days, for that rewriting. For now though, the fact stood evident that Izaya was obviously apprehensive, and it bugged Shizuo more than it would ever before.

 _Eskimo prince, working in Slovakia as a tractor driver, died in a night club while drinking cocoa_ , the radio news proclaimed.

They had just finished their breakfast, and maybe all the fuss Izaya had made before had actually been warranted because really, this was some good sencha Shizuo was currently sipping from a cup of his best set.

He let the warm, bittersweet fluid wash down his throat as he reclined against the kitchen counter. It almost had the soothing effect of a drag on a cigarette.

“They say 5G connection developed by Huawei can kill at a distance, you know,” Izaya commented from where he was sitting at the countertop. 

Shizuo snorted. “Excited?”

“Oh, I can't imagine it's just me who's excited when the 'wave' button in Messenger still exists.”

“Fair.” Shizuo smiled, easy and genuine.

“What?” 

“Nothing. I just imagined the kind o people you deal with sending you wave emojis.”

Izaya smiled back at him. “Occupational risk.” His finger traced a rim of a cup. “I'll have you know, it's happened on occasion.”

“With the yakuza?”

Izaya hummed with a nod, and Shizuo found himself cracking up at that. 

“Do you even know what fear is?”

“I do, actually,” Izaya admitted. “I'm afraid of many things, just not people.”

“Why not?” Shizuo looked down at his hands, clenching and unclenching in slow, deliberate motions. “People can be terrible.”

“That's the beauty. Same goes for mountains. Or the ocean. Nature. I happen to love humanity. You can't really fear what you love.”

Shizuo thought about it and decided Izaya may have had a point. It didn't escape his attention that the other man wouldn't have shared this much even yesterday.

A smile played at the corner of Izaya's lips. 

“Have you thought of your question yet?” He asked.

“I've decided I'm saving it for later.”

Izaya's shoulders slumped. “When is later?”

“It's when I ask the question.” Shizuo hid a small smile. “You're a good strategist but your impatience ruins it.”

“I won't dignify that with a comment.”

“I used to loose my temper a lot,” Shizuo clarified. “Doesn't mean I couldn't wait. Not the same thing.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Izaya scrubbed a miniscule stain off the countertop with his nail. “I bet persistence comes in handy in your line of work,” Izaya conceded. “Ne, Shizu-chan, ever sent a wave to someone you were collecting money from?”

Shizuo shook his head no.

“Not even on accident?”

“Can't say that I have,” he replied. “But I might have texted late at night to say that I was thinking about them.”

“Sick.” Izaya smirked in approval. “Actually, this would probably peek my interest.”

“Thank fuck you're filthy rich and we'll never find out where that might lead us.”

Izaya grinned. He looked as if he were to say something but thought better of it. His gaze stuck to the countertop instead while his fingers fiddled with the fabric of Shizuo's pullover.

Shizuo was putting an end to this miserable fit of anxiety right there and then. Slowly, deliberately, he set his cup of tea aside on the counter with a soft clink. Catching Izaya's gaze, he held it with sheer warmth incandescent in his own eyes and gentle smile. 

Apprehensive as Izaya looked at that moment, he didn't break the contact. Still, he had become obviously self-conscious of his nervous squirming once it had abruptly frozen, stumbled on Shizuo's knowing gaze. His bottom lip twitched, to offer unnecessary excuses, to brush off how wound up he was, and Shizuo would have none of that.

“Come here,” he said.

Tentatively, Izaya did.

Shizuo scooped him in a tight embrace, fitting him in the V of his legs. He kissed his lips warm and sweet. His arms snaked all over Izaya as the man snuggled up comfortably, their mouth slotting into one warm current of sensation. With each caress, the tension in his muscles slowly ebbed away. As Izaya gradually melted into the pleasure, Shizuo traced a line up his neck to suck a heated, open mouthed kiss just beneath his jawline. 

His arms around Izaya tightened. “I haven't had my fill of you yet.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Fade Into You](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oJ9E0mC9Cwk)
> 
> Anybody even remember this story? I know I had to read it all over again (but it turned out pretty smooth).


	19. Chapter 19

Shizuo found himself mincing up and down the sidewalk. At the opposite side of the street, a neon sign above the entrance to Shinjuku Pit Inn gleamed. It was the club Izaya frequented. 

It's been three days since the end of Izaya's last visit, which actually extended to 36 hours long of fucking, cooking, eating, working side by side, and ended with seeing Izaya off back to Shinjuku after he'd attacked Shizuo with an icicle he'd snatched off a ledge outside the window. 

Shizuo wouldn't be proud to admit that this wasn't the first time he'd happened to pass by the club in the span of these last three days. It hadn't been until today, however, that he would stop there and loiter about. The difference was, unlike the other times, Shizuo could sense Izaya's presence around, he could feel his scent in the cold evening draft.

Shizuo wasn't sure how he felt about the prospect of finding Izaya here in the vicinity of the club, other than _agitated_. On the one hand, he burned with the need to see him again. To talk to him, just feel his presence. To confirm what he had known in his gut – that what had happened between them had been by no means casual.

On the other hand, what if it had been? How would Shizuo react finding someone on Izaya's arm as they were leaving the club together. With his new found strength, what would happen should he get seriously upset?

“What are we looking at?” The most welcome voice cut Shizuo's musings short.

Izaya approached from behind, carrying a bulging shopping bag. Right, he lived nearby after all. 

Shizuo suddenly itched for his cigarettes. Reaching down into the pocket of his jacket, he fished one stick out of the box, lit it up and took a slow, soothing drag.

“The club,” Shizuo carefully allowed. “You like it better than most.”

“It's cozy. The music's not half bad.” Izaya cracked a smirk. “Could it be that Shizu-chan was hoping to cross paths with me?”

“I was thinking,” Shizuo carried on with calmness he didn't feel, not sparing the other man a glance. “It was good, the other night.” He frowned. “Nights.”

“Yes, Shizuo,” Izaya admitted softly, his head hung low, as if he were confessing to a crime that would forever doom him.”It was good.”

Shizuo nodded.

“Looks like you were right again.” Smoke curled in his lungs pleasantly as he inhaled. “I can't see why I avoided hookups all this time.”

From the corner of his eye, Shizuo watched as Izaya's own eyes widened a notch, more of a give-away sign than he would usually let slip, darting between Shizuo and the club entrance. It didn't take long before he jumped to conclusions. From then on, he must have wondered whether Shizuo was being cruel on purpose or just profoundly oblivious. In the end, he turned sharply to stride off without a word.

“I don't know how to go about it.” Shizuo let out a long suffering sigh.

Izaya stopped dead in his tracks, turning back to him sharply. 

“Unbelievable,” he hissed. “Do you seriously expect me to help you get laid?”

“Oh, I expect you to hinder,” Shizuo truthfully answered. Dropping the last of his cigarette, he ground out the stub under his shoe. “But your input is still necessary.”

Izaya cut him a calculating look as another option was likely being added to his initial 'cruel' or 'oblivious' assessment of the current Shizuo state. Taking careful steps towards, Izaya crept up directly behind Shizuo's back. He climbed on his toes and rested his chin on the other man's shoulder. Together they peered into the crowd strewing the club entrance. 

“It's always good to look around before ducking in a place like this,” Izaya said, his gaze wandering. “There.” His head cocked to the right. “I can see someone who might be to your liking.”

“They're not my type.”

“You didn't even look!”

“That's how not my type they are.”

Izaya huffed a small laugh. “They're a she-- _ouch!_ ”

Slow smile claimed Shizuo's lips at how his deliberate shrug served to effectively shut Izaya's mouth.

Fingers rubbing at his jaw, Izaya clung to Shizuo closer still.

“Mm.” He nestled his cheek against the side of Shizuo's neck. “All right then. What _is_ your type?”

“Asking stupid questions,” Shizuo grumbled. “Annoying. Ubiquitous. Pestering, prying--”

“No kidding!” Izaya jumped back at once, eyes lit with mischievous glint. “Shizu-chan is a pedophile!”

“ _What?!_ ” Shizuo was glad to have put down his cigarette because he might have swallowed it now. 

“Of course, why didn't I see it before!” Izaya gleefully waved his arms spread out to the sides, shopping bag dangling from one hand, and Shizuo carefully avoided calling him a child. “You even asked if I was twelve a few days back!”

“I'm going to murder you.”

“Chill, Shizu-chan. I hold no prejudice against pedophiles, I love all humanity!”

“Well, I do!” Shizuo fumed. “And--”

“Must be hard,” Izaya cut in. “So much internalized pedophobia.”

“I am not a pedophile!”

Heads turned but people quickly scampered off when confronted with rage of the man known as...

“The monster of Ikebukuro gains a whole new ring to it, doesn't it?”

Shizuo dashed after him but Izaya sloped from side to side, easily evading his reach. He dropped his shopping bag, spilling its contents at his pursuer's feet. Shizuo narrowly avoided tripping on rolling oranges and grapefruits like a slapstick comedy figure but it did slow him down. Not that Izaya really needed a head start. Standing at the ledge a dozen yards afar, he looked over his shoulder to slant a glance at Shizuo closing in with all guns blazing.

“Don't worry. I'll avoid parks and playgrounds on my way so that you don't get distracted.”

He winked before dipping behind the ledge.

“ _I-ZA-YA!!_ ” 

 

They didn't make it to the bedroom this time and fucked against the kitchen counter in various positions instead. Their kisses were filled with huffs of silent laughter, eyes crinkling with mirth. Izaya would cradle Shizuo's face in his hands and pull him to his mouth like a glass of water after their chase. His legs were curling around Shizuo relentlessly while his entire body pulsed and radiated with unstoppable need to nestle into him, stake a claim on his mouth and skin and every part of him all at once. 

Izaya was bold with his desire in a way that he hadn't been before, not entirely. Active and taking, he grinned through it all genuinely gleeful until Shizuo turned him into a whimpering mess once again. This night marked the first occasion Shizuo would call him 'baby', which wrenched another bout of hysterical laughter from Izaya who was in raw, tender pieces at the time, just about to come and not predisposed to expressing amusement in any way whatsoever. He reached climax within moments all the same, and it struck him with such force that he didn't even mind drooping from Shizuo's neck for a long time after that in perfect silence.

Later he would have Shizuo feed him again, as compensation for the lost groceries. Not that Shizuo needed convincing. He didn't mind one bit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are ♥


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “They should have us on a reality show. A really dumb one.”

“Out with it,” Izaya ordained, face engulfed in the pale blueish glow of his laptop's screen. 

How on Earth he was able to take notice of Shizuo's agitation without so much as taking his eyes off of work, and when Shizuo was positive he'd been doing a good job keeping it to himself, was anyone's guess. 

“It's nothing,” Shizuo grunted.

“I see.”

It could well have been that Shizuo was haunting Izaya's room aimlessly for no other reason than to check if shelves appeared in dire need of ~~smashing~~ dusting. If at the same time he happened to loom over Izaya glued to his laptop as he progressed in his work, well that was purely to keep an eye on him, as his notoriously nefarious ways called for.

Not that Shizuo was likely to catch on with the warped and convoluted plots Izaya weaved if they were staring at him directly from the screen right now. 

And frankly, he wouldn't, even if he could. Shizuo made a point early on in this arrangement of theirs to never meddle with Izaya's business outside the battlefield of the city. He refused to take advantage of their slowly building common space for the sake of dubious ethics. It had been nearly two months now that they'd spent living on and off together between their respective apartments and Shizuo had yet to be so much as tempted to break that resolution.

With a frustrated heavy sigh, he slumped onto a bed next to Izaya's chair.

“Are-you-dissatisfied-with-our-sex-life?” He yanked the chain of words out of his throat fast in one painful breath.

That earned him the first carefully speculative look from Izaya since he'd entered the room.

“I do wonder by what means you've been able to arrive at such query.” He blinked, apparently set on granting Shizuo with his full attention now that it was least welcome.

“Can't you just answer the question?” 

“I could.” Izaya waved off. “So, why does Shizu-chan think himself inadequate--”

“Oya! I never said--”

“Pardon, let me rephrase that. Why would Shizu-chan think he falls _short_ \--”

Shizuo threw a pillow at him. With a noisy growl to run over Izaya's following laughter, he fidgeted on the bed. When no words came out, Izaya raised an elegant eyebrow at him.

“Like, I always top,” Shizuo said to the LED lighting cornice. “Don't you miss that? Maybe we could--” he trailed off.

“I wouldn't be opposed to it,” Izaya conceded. “When and if you're actually into it. Which is not the case at present.”

Shizuo felt an invisible weigh lift off his chest and another one settle in its place at once. Izaya was not supposed to be this considerate, and Shizuo didn't know how much deeper he was to fall before inevitably hitting the hard ground.

“Yeah, but, just.” Shizuo rubbed his hands over his face. “It's all simpler with women.”

“Simpler,” Izaya echoed, suddenly hollow.

“Right,” Shizuo carried on. “And even disregarding who fucks whom, it's still way too different.”

“With women.”

Not nearly as good as it was with Izaya for him, not the same galaxy of experience, not even the same scale applied. But this wasn't about him. And the fact remained, it was different in a way he could never make up for.

“Yeah,” he said, sounding wistful.

“You don't say.”

“Stop mocking me.” Shizuo utterly failed to read the mood. “I thought you wanted me to talk.”

“Yes. And now I'm left wondering what had made it seem like a good idea at the time.”

Be it the words, unusually harsh for them these days, or be it the tightness to the tone, suffice to say Shizuo had finally caught on that something was off. Frowning, he carefully took in how wound up Izaya looked.

“So you miss fucking women. That's what this was all about?” Izaya snapped at him.

“No.”

“I can't believe you crept up with it so much. It's not like I've put a leash on you, Shizu-chan. Go fuck whoever you want! Or do you need my blessing?”

“ _What_?” Shizuo rose to his feet.

“What _what_?” Izaya snidely mocked what must have been his dumbstruck expression. “What did you expect me to say here? I'm not gonna change sex for you, Shizuo. And I'm not into threesomes, if that's what this was leading up to.”

“It wasn't.”

With an exasperated huff, Izaya strode for the door. He opted for the dramatic departure despite the fact that he was in his own room in his very own apartment, and could easily throw Shizuo out like garbage. That he wouldn't was what inspired confidence in Shizuo and pushed him into action.

“No,” he said, standing himself between the door and Izaya. With a heavy thud, he rested his back against the door, facing the other man. “No one's leaving this room until we've figured this out.”

For a moment, Izaya looked comically suspended between annoyed and impressed before he summoned back his cold, neutral expression.

“I have nothing more to say to you.”

“Well, I do.” Shizuo took a deep breath. “I didn't mean to spy on you. I never do. I was running late yesterday, hoping to catch a bus that would make it on time, so I opened a browser on your laptop at hand to check the timetable.”

“ _What_ now?”

“I didn't mean to pry!”

Izaya waved it off impatiently. “Forget it. What does it have to do with anything?”

“Well, there they were. An array of webcam girls leering at me.”

A crease formed between Izaya's eyebrows as he appeared to struggle to even recall what Shizuo might be on about.

“Look, I didn't even mean to say anything about it. You do what you want, you don't owe me shit.” He paused. “But seeing this women, it got me thinking...”

“About what you've been missing out on,” Izaya concluded. 

“Again, _no_ ,” Shizuo said. “And you can be awfully insecure, 'd you know that?”

Izaya opened his mouth to voice a protest but just as quickly as his lips parted, they snapped shut again. 

He shrugged.

That earned him a tentative smile from Shizuo. 

“So, what were you thinking about?” Izaya asked, bracing himself one hand on the door next to Shizuo's head. “What was it all about?”

“I told you from the start.” Shizuo looked ruffled. “You just wouldn't believe me. I was thinking about your needs. 'bout how I can meet them, and the ways I never could.”

Izaya was peering into his eyes, no doubt searching for a hint of deceit. Finding none, he seemed quite baffled. 

“Why would you even consider that?”

Well, if this wasn't a million dollar question. In his mind, Shizuo searched frantically for a way out of it.

Still more than a little stunned after everything that had just transpired, Izaya turned away from him and shuffled back to his chair. Several clicks later, the site in question flashed into view, in all its lecherous glory. 

“That it?”

“I guess,” Shizuo frowned. “How many of them do you follow?”

Izaya snickered. “A few.” 

A breathy, distinctly feminine moan reverberated through the room.

Shaking his lolled head, Izaya smiled ruefully. “Huh. I guess it does look pretty explicit, doesn't it? I didn't even _notice_.”

Shizuo was unsure what to make of this.

“I've been digging dirt on a certain policeman I want in my pocket.”

Shizuo carefully reminded himself that these were not the words that should inspire a sense of peace in anybody. But they did.

“Normally, I would force this shit on Namie. This part of the job is actually tedious. Alas.” He drifted off to his own musings. “I've been meaning to delegate work for weeks now but somehow I can't quite bring myself to do it. Move on, as if she's really--”

 _Gone,_ Shizuo heard the unspoken word loud and clear.

“No longer a subject to my sadistic amusement!” Izaya concluded, flashing a toothy grin like a bipolar shark in the stage of acute mania.

“Work,” Shizuo said, feeling more than a little silly about how much thought he had put into all this and still failed to consider such a viable possibility. “They should have us on a reality show. A really dumb one.”

Izaya smiled at him. Suddenly, his expression morphed into one of serious contemplation. 

“Work,” he echoed, the word rolling off his tongue experimentally. It didn't appear that he liked the taste of it. “Now there's a word that inspires confidence in everybody where sex is involved.”

Shizuo frowned, not quite seeing where Izaya was going with it.

“Yes, honey, I've been spending all my evenings with our new busty secretary. But that's all right, it's _work_.”

“I don't think that's fair,” Shizuo said.

“It really isn't.” Izaya deliberately misinterpreted him. “Oh, if it's work then that's fine,” He carried on in his most daring attempt at feminine impression yet. “I would hate it if you were to cheat on me outside an office setting!”

Shizuo snorted, and Izaya broke into laughter more than once farther along his increasingly ridiculous enacting of the cheated wife. At the same time, the curious parallels he was drawing were not lost on Shizuo. After all, they didn't have that kind of relationship. If one of them took part in an interstellar orgy as a fucktoy, it could hardly be considered as cheating. 

Or could it? They didn't use protection, and Izaya had never so much as implied that he might be seeing other people. Shizuo had to wonder exactly how deliberate he was, spinning this little anecdote in relation to them.

Izaya turned back to his laptop. His fingers skimmed over the keyboard with practiced speed. On the screen, several windows popped up to soon be strewn with strings of unintelligible text. They closed one by one as swiftly as they'd appeared. 

“Done,” Izaya said. “I've sent this as a commission to my private network. One of my liaisons is bound to pick it up within hours. I'll make sure to delegate this shit from now on.”

“You didn't have to.”

“All the more reason to do it,” Izaya said. “While we're at this topic, I really hate it when you cut off my exits.”

Shizuo winced. He had known, he'd picked up on that. He had been fucking mindful about it all the time until today. 

“I know,” Shizuo admitted. “I wasn't thinking clearly. Sorry about that.”

“No need. I found I... didn't entirely hate it today.”

Well, then.

Quietly, Shizuo reached for the doorknob to leave Izaya to his own devices as he'd carried on with his work.

“And I would have thought it obvious.” The muffled words stopped Shizuo in the doorway.

“What is obvious?”

“That you keep me satisfied,” Izaya said. “I thought I was being quite open about it.”

“You are.” Shizuo felt a soft smile tugging on his lips. “I was being stupid.”

“Nah. But you can be awfully insecure at times.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no excuse for the opera-soapy feel to this chapter. But I have reasons for writing less frequently, so please don't hold it against me!
> 
> Someone please hold my hand while I carry out orchestrating details to this convoluted story. Comments are ♥


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pay no mind to the lyrics but the beat to Tricky's [Really Real](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=saJkqhG-nZI) had worked its magic and was what it took to finally get me in the mood. I needed that to tackle the first section of this chapter.

Izaya was shameless and he basked in it. 

Shizuo had caught on quickly to how his own keen, heated looks were sunshine to the lazy cat. Izaya appeared more aware and in control of his body when under appreciative attention. Happier, too. 

Flourishing. 

He would stretch and flex his muscles, nice and easy, taking pleasure in moving his body, in the building strain running along small chunks of flesh, and in the soft crack of knuckles. His motions were elegant and sharp, sweeping lines of long limbs, flashes of bare skin above the line of his pants running low over sharp hip points.

He dressed more deliberately these days. Oh, it was nothing loud, but the velvet black long sleeves combined with hiphuggers cut as if custom-made to flaunt his long legs and flat abbs were driving Shizuo crazy more than leather pants or see-through tops ever would.

Half the time, Izaya didn't even seem to be aware of his newly acquired mannerisms and overall body-mindfulness. Shizuo remembered hearing on the radio once about the research that suggested people and animals could be subconsciously aware of others looking at them, even without ever seeing it. This might explain the way Izaya squirmed and heaved on deep sighs while scrolling through his phone, snugged comfortably on the sofa under Shizuo's simmering scrutiny that he was physically unable to notice.

Another times, when he did take notice, he would find himself unable to deflect. Like a butterfly pinned into place, Izaya might twist and wriggle but around one spot alone where Shizuo's gaze held him captive. Had Shizuo known from the start that all it took to trap his eluding nemesis was a change of inflection to the heated intent on his own look, things between them might have moved swiftly and a whole lot of smoother.

Izaya would sprawl wider on the bed, or in the armchair, with a soft murmur barely audible over the rustle of clothes on fabric of furniture, maybe hook his lean leg over the armrest, tip his head slightly, exposing his elegant neck. Like this, he would slant half-lidded gazes at Shizuo.

Once, when Shizuo was practically prowling like an animal in broad arches around where Izaya was arranging himself like an eager offering on the sofa, Shizuo drank in the sight of him for a long time, as if that could sate him instead of only building up the heat coiling low in his abdomen.  
Closing his eyes and turning his unseeing gaze upward to the ceiling and beyond, Izaya looked so serene it felt surreal. One corner of his lips curled up in a lazy, content smirk as his arm shot out towards Shizuo, outstretched hand beckoning him in.

The laughter that had been building in Izaya's chest crumbled into a groan as Shizuo, having pulled his whole body by an ankle as means of sweeping Izaya lower on his back, fitted himself in between his thighs and, pressing their groins together, leaned down heavy to claim his mouth in a heated kiss.

It might have been a plot to turn Shizuo into an addict but Izaya always welcomed his touch. It didn't matter if he was busy with work or elated when his evil plots had brought about havoc - Shizuo could always reach for him on a whim, easy as plucking fruit off a twig, and Izaya would give.

 

Shizuo found that Izaya was all for having his ass grabbed and fondled affectionately on pretty much every occasion, but never slapped (he had gotten himself a prominent bruise as a reminder of that). This was something he enjoyed while they fucked and while they necked leisurely with Izaya in Shizuo's lap alike. He was borderline addicted to the way Shizuo used his firm grip to press them closer together and _make him_ take in the feel of his straining erection.

Izaya didn't mind being gently maneuvered around their respective households, didn't mind it one bit. He much preferred it when Shizuo took him by the hips and moved him out of his way instead of telling him to step aside. 

The way Shizuo moved had become measured and came with intent. This also seemed to appeal to Izaya who would give in easy to being suddenly crowded against walls or trapped in the steel brace of Shizuo's shoulders against the counter table. More than anything, he enjoyed having full length of Shizuo's body pressing firm and heavy on his.

It was within reason to expect Izaya would literally kill for foot rubs. The stronger the better. Applying pressure to the soles of his feet in all the right spots brought Izaya closest to mellow he would ever get. Afterward, oftentimes he would open his legs in silent invitation for Shizuo to take his own pleasure while Izaya himself remained a pliant, malleable warmth surrounding him.

Nipples were his soft spot, to the point where Shizuo started considering it a dirty move to lead into sex by playing with them as Izaya was basically helpless against it, turning momentarily into a wanton mess with the sole purpose of seeking friction. Instead, Shizuo would take advantage of that whenever Izaya was riding his cock. Rolling the nipple buds tender with blood overflow in between thumbs and forefingers, pinching and prodding at them gently forced Izaya to let go completely and every time without fail. He would wriggle on Shizuo's cock with frantic frenzy, gasping and panting hot moist puffs, gaping mouth drooling slightly in an overall obscene, scorching hot display that had Shizuo emptying his load deep into him in no time.

 

They were bloody amazing together, in every way possible. This went without saying, even though Shizuo realized there were probably things in need of naming. He didn't feel like he had the words.

Truth of it was, if Shizuo had tried to imagine the best he could possibly feel still three months prior, it would have been nowhere close to this. This deep seated contentment that seemed to constantly ooze bliss straight from where it simmered in the marrow of his bones and into the bloodstream was a feeling that would have been beyond his imagination before, like a new color.

That being said, Shizuo did think about the ways he could somehow acknowledge or affirm this relationship. He planned on having Kasuka over for dinner or beer. Casual as ever, only this time with Izaya present, as he always was these days. He thought about taking Izaya to the new Korean noshery that had just conveniently opened two blocks down.

Before he could make up his mind and put any of his plans into motion, Valentine's Day crept up on Shizuo. He caught on to the fact rather late, which left him with last moment improvising. His kitchen endeavors were usually successful, so he opted for an easy way out and made chocolates. No heart-shaped ridiculous stuff, just something that could be easily explained away with his sweet tooth and love for all food that contained milk. 

They turned out delicious and would later disappear fast to the accompaniment of appreciative little sounds Izaya made low in his throat. 

When Izaya came home that day, his cheeks were flushed and he was panting with exertion. In his hands he was carrying a road sign, complete with the metal post and a cubic piece of concrete at the bottom to serve as footing. He settled it down next to the wall that marked the entrance from the kitchenette to Shizuo's room.

“For when Shizu-chan feels like throwing something at me.”

Shizuo regarded the sign and at that moment he felt his blood rush hot into his head. On a red-rimmed white round plate there was a crossed out black arrow bent over backwards. No U turn sign. 

No turning back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Someone please hold my hand while I carry out orchestrating details to this convoluted story. Comments are ♥


	22. Labyrinth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, some action! No, not _this_ kind... Wait, where y'all going? 
> 
> [6 Underground](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2eBZqmL8ehg)

“You did _what?_ ” Izaya shrilled right into Shizuo's ear. His voice cut through the pitch black darkness Shizuo was fully enveloped in, carried and echoed off the cement walls.

Shizuo clutched his phone in a tight and clammy grip of his hand. Under his other arm, a bouncy cat squirmed and wriggled in hopes of breaking free and springing after the scurrying noises of rats on rails.

“You're angry.”

His parted lips caught on droplets that proliferated over the flat glass of the screen, beading up from breath in already humid air.

“I'm not angry,” Izaya spoke in a low voice. “Can't afford to be when you could be walking into your death any minute. I wouldn't want for a petty squabble to be the last words spoken between us. It's poor taste.” Shizuo could hear the swift click-clack of Izaya's fingers skimming over keyboard. “Go farther along this line another hundred yards. Don't hang up. Should the connection break, _don't move_ an inch, stay put until I come after you. You know to look out for the third rail, right?”

“Now that's a little overdramatic.” Shizuo said, but at the same time squeezed the twitchy bundle of fluff under his arm a little tighter. “Marunouchi Line won't be operating for another couple of days. I just need to find my way out and away from these rabid gangs and their tussle.”

There was a pause on the other end of the line. “It's not like you to shy away from a fight. Shizu-chan, are you hurt?”

“No,” Shizuo drawled, evasive. “But the cat is.”

“Sorry, _what?_ ”

“Well, what was I to do with it?!” Shizuo deflected. “I hurl one of those goons coming at me with a baseball bat, and the idiot lands flat on a tree! And - clumsy bastard! - shakes the poor cat off it.” The animal in question let out a pitiful squeak from being crushed under Shizuo's arm, as he was getting more agitated with every word he spoke. “I think the little guy broke a leg!”

“Or has it just happened now?”

“No!” 

“I think I heard a crack.”

“No, but keep at it and you will when I've come back.”

Darkness gave texture to imagination, so Shizuo could picture Izaya's small smile vividly as if his eyes were closed.

“But really,” Izaya said. “You keep track of where the third rail is, right?”

“Yeah, yeah.” A sleeve of Shizuo's jacket brushed over rough cement. “I keep close to the wall. The third rail is at the other side of the tracks.”

“Right. Good.”

“Is it even live? There's no light, pumps and ventilation ain't working. I think all power's down.”

“These all run on alternating current,” Izaya explained. “The third rail is supplied with direct current, coming from a different power source. Probably down as well but I wouldn't take the risk.”

Shizuo hummed in agreement. Izaya's tone seemed a little distant as he was likely engrossed in plans and maps in relation to where the signal was tracing back to Shizuo. Still, he never broke the chatter for long, mindful to keep the connection between them ever present. Lost in the dark, Shizuo was immensely grateful for the anchor of Izaya's calm, of his voice, soft and warm, snuggling in Shizuo's ear. “So let me guess. You joined in after a street fight had broken out nearby Minamiotsuka Park. You rendered a cat its calamity--”

“Oi! I didn't do shit to the cat, it was the psycho with the bat!”

“You felt bad about it and scooped it up to take it some place safe. But the fight was wild and spreading. The idea formed in your mind that since Marunouchi Line was out of service, all you needed to do was find the nearest manhole and together with your fluffy friend you could leave the war zone unscathed. How am I doing so far?”

“The fight broke out in the park, not nearby,” Shizuo grumbled.

“No, it didn't.” 

Shizuo wished he could punch the smugness off Izaya's voice.

“But the power was off and you couldn't find an exit with just your mobile phone to lit the path,” Izaya carried on. “Worse still, with no electricity, the Wi-Fi is off. That leaves you with no GPS, no light, no sound save for my trusty voice to guide you... My my, I imagine you must feel quite lost right now, Shizu-chan.”

“You seem to enjoy this,” Shizuo noted, unruffled. “Gonna have to try blindfolds next time.”

“Oh?” Izaya's voice turned low and seductive. “You'd let me blindfold you?”

Shizuo swallowed. Regardless of what they shared, Izaya _was_ dangerous. Somehow, this only added to the appeal.

“Sure,” he said. “Long as there's knife play involved.”

There was a pause on the other end of the line before Izaya broke into delighted fit of laughter.

“Shizu-chan is so gloriously unpredictable!” Stifling his chuckle, he sounded a lot like a vaguely psychotic child. “I can never tell how you'll react. But it's ever so _fun_ to watch and find out!”

“Hold on a sec,” Shizuo growled low in his throat, having caught on to something. “If the internet is down, how come you can trace me?”

“Ah--”

“You put a bug on me?!”

“No.”

“I can't believe this!” Shizuo huffed in frustration. “You are so dead. This desolate sorry pit has nothing on you in terms of _deadness_.”

Shizuo slammed his fist against the wall, forming a deep crack in a concrete plate.

“Calm down, Shizu-chan. Try not to bury yourself down there inadvertently,” Izaya chirped. “I would hate it if my efforts had gone to waste and the cat actually died.”

Sizuo fumed.

“I haven't planted any tracking device on you.” Izaya sighed wearily. “Even though, by the looks of it, I should have. As it is, I'm going by the remnant trickle of the internet from your mobile phone operator left in your subscription. That means you've been popping in and out of radar, it's a bitch tracking you in relation to the subway network, and you don't even seem to realize the danger here, Theseus.”

“What do you mean?” Shizuo frowned. 

“Well, if you're Theseus in this scenario, and I'm princess Ariadne as follows – who's missing?”

“ _What_ now?”

Shizuo could almost hear Izaya rolling his eyes.

“Ah, bliss of ignorance. Must be nice. I want my blindfold too.”

“Did you just call yourself a princess?”

Izaya didn't quite hold back a snort. “ _This_ is what you're getting from it?”

“I can't picture you blindfolded, Princess,” Shizuo mused. “Your Majesty is too much of a control freak.”

“It's 'Royal Highness',” Izaya evenly supplied. “And that's actually not true. It might have been, several months back, but I am capable of change, you know.”

Shiuzo grunted, overtly doubtful.

“How odd,” Izaya mused, voice curling on a slight lilt. “Shizu-chan can be really oblivious at times. Then riddle me this, Strongest Man in Ikebukuro. Exactly how much control do you think I get to keep every time I let you wrap your arms around me?”

Pleasant tingling spiked up hairs all over Shizuo's skin and prickled at his fingertips just at the thought of their most recent tumble in bed. Shizuo had never questioned the sheer pleasure he derived from holding Izaya close, but come to think of it, maybe Izaya's vulnerability and his intrinsic trust were part of the kick. Either way, just the thought of taking advantage of their intimacy and using it to inflict hurt made Shizuo feel sick to his stomach.

“I wouldn't--”

“Oh, I know that,” Izaya was quick to dismiss his concerns. “Believe me, I know. Actually, my lizard brain seems dead set on finding your proximity the safest place ever.”

Shizuo felt a soft smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“Funny, that,” Izaya went on. “But it wasn't always like this. It used to be a struggle just staying in the same room as you.”

In a way, Shizuo had known this, he had taken notice. Still, it didn't seem like he'd fully realized the extent of courage Izaya had to muster just to withstand Shizuo's accompanying presence in enclosed space. For willing to fight his own instincts, for how Izaya had apparently deemed _them_ worth it, Shizuo felt ridiculously grateful, but even more was he glad that they'd clearly moved past that stage.

Shizuo tripped on a jutting crosstie so bad that the air was punched out of his lungs but he never let go of the cat. He was getting tired, though. It was an extremely difficult stroll, padding the uneven pebbled rail bed chopped up by hurdles of wooden ties, in pitch darkness. No raised path lining this section of tunnels. Worse still, seeing as all the pumps were down, the air felt jungle-like humid, and it was getting hard to breath. Despite all that, or for these very reasons, Shizuo had peeled himself off the wall a good minute ago, the tracks being his only orientation point thereafter to keep him from stepping on the third rail and getting fried. He did so to quicken his pace as there was no telling how much longer he could go on like this. 

Suffice to say, these were neither the circumstances nor the time that anyone would pick for hearing the next words that came from the receiver.

“Turn back!” Izaya shouted. “Shizuo, turn back now! Run!”

Shizuo did as told. As he found himself on the cusp of falling down from exhaustion, his mind put up no resistance nor did it ask questions. He ran with all that he had left in him. Distantly, Shizuo noticed a clatter that was fast approaching and increasing in volume.

It wasn't until the deafening swish of a roar came rolling down the tracks behind his back that Shizuo stopped running and dared to look over his shoulder. No farther than twenty yards away, a torrential blur of light and noise was streaming furiously across a thirty feet arched window that marked a crossing of subway lines.

Sweaty and trembling all over his body, Shizuo collapsed onto his knees, the phone slipping down from a shaky clutch of his clammy palm. Even if it terrified him, he couldn't take his eyes off of the rolling stock taking up all space within the adjacent tunnel he'd only just pulled out of.

How could he have been so stupid and not factor in the crossings outside of platforms? In complete darkness, having stepped away from the wall, he couldn't even tell when he'd passed one of those and landed himself on a live and operating subway line.

But shouldn't Izaya have been able to tell? Shizuo must have gotten quite far along the wrong track before he'd been turned back.

It wasn't until the train vanished into a distant clatter that Shizuo had even collected himself enough to notice that the cat wasn't the only source of pitiful meowing that carried in the dark.

Rectangular patch of blueish glow gleamed on the ground next to a shaky column of his arm. Back again, it was the only thing visible in the dark, and as such, demanded attention.

“...Shizu-chan, talk to me! Oh, God, please. Shizuo! Please, _please_ answer this. I'm so sorry!”

Picking up the phone, Shizuo frowned at it.

“Did you just try to murder me with a train?”

He meant it as a weak attempt at laugh in the face of overwhelming horror, mostly, but - disturbing as the imagery was - Shizuo might rather be squashed like a bug by that train if it spared him from finding out Izaya's role in this.

From the sound of it, after the initial massive exhale of relief, Izaya was still struggling to even out his breath, so Shizuo carried on talking.

“It sure looks like you'd been walking me into my death until your conscience kicked in and you pulled me out last-minute... Are you _crying_?”

“ _What?!_ ” A vicious, wounded hiss, more than a voice cut through the air.

“Well, that wheeze just now sounded like a sob.”

“Fuck you! Is _this_ what you think? That I fuckin' led you under a running train?!”

It was brutal yet incredibly convenient a way to off someone you hated with true and devoted passion. And, admittedly, Shizuo walked into it himself, no doubt taunting Izaya with the possibility. More over, it had the advantage of being completely untraceable, remote control kind of job that Izaya had always preferred over the hands-on approach.

“Well, _did you?_ ”

“Listen carefully, Shizu-chan.” A sniff. “Don't you dare hang up on me because I am getting you out of this. I'm gonna get you out, and I'm gonna _smash your face in_ , and then we're done. We are _so_ fucking done.”

The fight was evaporating from Shizuo along with tons of sweat. He was still shaking. Trying to get back on his feet turned out futile as his knees gave out under him.

“Fine.” He panted, raking a hand through his hair and eliciting an angry hiss from the abused cat. “Fine, whatever. Just... please don't let me die under a train. It was--” he cut off as words stuck on a lump in his throat.

“I'll be there in twenty.”

“No!” Shizuo cried out. “No.” He huffed a silent laugh. “I'm going bat-shit crazy here, Izaya. Half an hour more down this pit and I might go for the Minotaur myself. How many crossings before I get to the exit?”

“Just this one.” Izaya said, hesitant. “Are you sure? I can be there in--”

“I'm way sure. Just.” Legs shook in protest as Shizuo tried to stand up again. “Give me a sec.”

“Okay,” Izaya said, softer now. His sniffing was muffled as he clearly tried to cover the sound with a hand over the speaker. “Take your time.”

Shizuo squeezed his eyes shut and felt a wet drop trickling down his cheek. With all the tension and no vision to blur in complete darkness, he didn't even notice his own eyes watering. His chest was heaving with labored gasps. And then,

“Hold on, Shizuo,” Izaya whispered in his ear, his voice a soothing mix of soft and firm. “You're close. Just focus on my voice. I'm going to get you out of there. It's a promise.”

Shizuo let out a sigh.

"Hold on to me," Izaya asked of him, and it felt genuine.

“You know,” Shizuo said. “I was not even in any real danger. You turned me back well ahead of time. It wasn't like in the movies, I'd put a good distance between that line and myself before the train rolled past.” 

“I know, I could see that on the screen.” Izaya swallowed. “But you weren't answering. And I kinda lost it.”

“Yeah.”

Silence fell over them but it felt soothing. Under the palm of his hand, Shizuo could feel his comfort pet purring softly. He used the time to pull himself together.

“I was thinking about calling Celty in case she could use her smokes to guide you outside," Izaya said. "But I couldn't trust her with you, lest she missed a train.” He huffed a self-deprecating laugh.

“I was going to call her next, if you hadn't picked up the phone.”

There was a brief pause before Izaya spoke again.

“Did you two have a fight?” He asked, obviously confused. Like he'd missed a step in the game.

Resting the back of his head against the wall, Shizuo felt his chest rumble with silent laughter.

“What now?”

“You're funny when you're not trying for it.”

“Oya!”

Shizuo snickered.

At long last, he was able to put himself back on his feet again.

 

They were far from _done_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I suffer from anxiety disorder. Way back when, it got really fucking bad. Two wonderful people carried me through that dark period. Or should I say, three wonderful people?  
> I remember listening to Dolores O'Riordan screaming at me on repeat that I had to hold on. _"To me"_ was such a powerful punchline, especially knowing that I was blessed with people in my life who let me do just that.  
> Ironically enough, in the end, Dolores herself could not hold on when I have pulled through somehow. I suppose it is fitting for an anchor to drown.
> 
> Let this chapter be my tribute to [this song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7LM4Cb6wZUA) by the Cranberries. (The music vid is a perfect illustration to this chapter, I highly recommend you check it out.)  
> Thank you, Dolores. <3 Leave kudos if you think I did any good - we're breaking 100!


	23. Chapter 23

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Ask me no questions, I will tell you no lies"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Seriously, [this vid](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=e1YqueG2gtQ). It even has the Yellow Scarves in it! Sugoi!!

After Shizuo had vaulted the third rail, clearing the few remaining obstacles on his way to the nearest manhole was a breeze. Unexpectedly, however, Izaya had stopped him right at the exit for good two minutes.

“Aaand _now_. You're good to go,” he announced at length.

Shizuo huffed in frustration like a little pot of boiling blood from under a lid. With ease, he lifted the cast-iron scuttle, and having climbed a few steps up the shabby notches, found himself breathing in clear air at long last.

He was not to enjoy the peace for long.

“What the bloody _hell_ , Princess?” Shizuo barked at the phone angrily.

At the same time, he ducked a hefty chunk of debris flying at his head. 

Just peachy. From one street-fight right into another, with one hand immobilized with cat-holding duty. He'd literally cleared that blasted tunnel of death for no reason at all.

Luckily, a prominent road sign was right at hand. Shizuo snatched and plucked it easy like a dandelion clock.

“That...” The smugness carried on Izaya's voice was itchy to the ears and did not bode well for Shizuo.

With a mighty sweep of his makeshift weapon, Shizuo fell three opponents at once. From the corner of his eye, he noticed a slick black limo approaching the crossing without slowing down.

Gingerly, he looked down to the road sign in his grip. A 'minor road' sign. Well, shit. 

At this point, Shizuo was left with nothing to do but watch as the car rolled full speed into the main street and got smashed from the left side.

Three angry men jumped out promptly, all clad in expensive suits, dark shades, curvy tattoo patterns flashing from beneath the hems of their shirts. Just great.

“Was work!” Izaya chirped, sounding absolutely delighted.

The yakuza had gotten into a rather one sided argument with the driver of the offending vehicle but one of them soon caught sight of Shizuo clinging to the uprooted road sign in his hand. Shuffling his feet and aiming for casual, Shizuo dropped the sign belatedly. It hit the ground with a distinct, reverberating clank that carried over the heads of all interested parties.

“That ought to hold them up long enough for my liaison to finish the job,” Izaya carried on. “Well done, Shizu-chan!” He must have had Shizuo on speaker because clapping applaud resounded. “You followed my plan like clockwork.”

Shizuo felt his stomach plummet, and not just because there was a yakuza man staring him down while billowing tails of his jacket revealed a gun tucked in a holster on his belt.

“I can't believe you did this.”

There was a low, rumbling noise of Izaya's silent laughter. “Sure you can.”

“You led me through those cursed crossing subway lines just to have your shitty business taken care of?”

“I don't know. Did I?”

“Was there an exit before that crossing?” Shizuo's voice was an odd mix of dead and deadly.

“How do you think?”

“I'm asking you!” 

“Whatever you choose to think is what you deserve to think.”

Shizuo was fuming. "That's not an answer."

“It's the only answer you're getting. I'd pull out and into that winding alleyway to the west if I were you.” Behind Shizuo. “Give it a minute run and you might find a convenient place to duck in.” A click and the line was dead. Another, and the gun was unlocked.

Shizuo hurtled down the alleyway fast as he could, its curvature hiding him at once from his pursuer's eyes. Moments into his run, he noticed a long row of non-transparent windows placarded with pictures of pets. A veterinary clinic. He looked over his shoulder but no one had caught up with him so much as to even get in sight. Shizuo didn't think yakuza were likely to look for him there. He took shelter inside at once.

 

The cat's leg was bruised, but not broken. His treatment had already been payed in advance by transfer. 

 

“Tsu.” Izaya decided on the name as the cat decided on his new home.

Tsu took to Izaya from the get-go, fawning and weaving between his legs, clinging to him, and all but forgetting about his true savior. 

Or maybe it was Shizuo, forgetting who their savior was when the cat knew it on instinct. 

“Tsu?” Shizuo asked, a small crease forming between his eyebrows.

“Yes.” Izaya petted the purring black bundle melting into his hand. “To always remember the part that's missing. And keep in mind what follows if I decide to get that part back.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm ever so happy to learn what your thoughts are. Comments are ❤️


	24. A Night Like This

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [A Night Like This](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ssu_6MXDcDA)

As of the time Shizuo had gained full control of his strength and his perpetual anger had simmered down, he'd been able to pick his battles. This was not to say they'd become any less violent or bloody. On the contrary, his increased power had resulted in broadening range of destruction while his composure allowed for more aimed blows and with that, the damage had become truly severe. People, _gangs_ , rarely picked on Shizuo now, but when they did, they came in squadrons.

It was late in the evening when Shizuo stepped on his way home, heading down what in this cramped urban space was supposed to pass for a park alley. Whiffs of cold breeze together with the faint fall of snowflakes onto his split lip and scraped knuckles gently soothed the burn away. 

His clothes were a little blood stained and his stomach would bruise in the morning but hell if it wasn't _fun_ to scatter the men who had come after Celty's powers by hurling a disk of cast-iron manhole cover across the street. Four of the assailants had gone down like dominoes just from that.

“You're early.” Lullaby soft voice carried in the air from twenty yards afar.

It sounded wistful.

Shizuo's eyes darted at once to the source of familiar voice, and for the strangest fleeting seconds, his breath caught in his chest as everything seemed to still down to a one, perfect photo shot.

Izaya was standing under an old, effuse oak tree covered in a thin layer of snow. Golden glow of a nearby lantern spilled over the sharp contrasting ink strokes of his profile. The glistening aura of white confetti was hovering all over him, sparkling flakes moving in slow motion. Snow seemed to part on his silhouette as if cut against a knife blade.

It was one of this rare moments in life that felt like Shizuo might just be sneaking a peek at the world as God saw it. Everything was absolutely perfect. Breathtakingly beautiful to the point it made his eyes water.

Shizuo felt so out of place, with his rough edges covered in scrapes and cuts, dried out sweat and blood. He almost felt like a clumsy intruder whose very presence next to this glowing bubble was sacrilegious.

It didn't appear to look the same from where Izaya stood. When he turned his face to carefully take in the man he'd been sharing his days and nights with, warmth and genuine adoration flickered through his eyes. Something else that Shizuo wouldn't dare name. All in all, he'd made Shizuo feel like his presence was welcome and just as perfect, not despite, but for the way he was. 

In a way, didn't he always?

At the same time, the sharp set to his features persisted, the look in his eyes was keen as ever, and for a split second Shizuo knew that if a knife could love, it would be like this. 

Shizuo stepped in closer. With so little space between them, it was torturous not to run the pad of his thumb over Izaya's snow-sprinkled eyebrows, not to kiss the thawed droplets off his lower lip.

But this was not something that they did. 

Physical intimacy was constricted within the walls of their apartments, and each of the countless tender caresses was easily explained away with pursuit of sexual gain. This wouldn't do here, still a good mile from home, with Izaya, by the looks of it, on a stakeout, busy for who knows how much longer.

This didn't seem to phase Izaya at all. He raised his arm easy and unhesitant, fingers reaching to skim over the tender skin beneath Shizuo's eye.

“I really thought it would take you longer to get rid of those thugs,” he said in awe, yet a little rueful.

It didn't make sense to ask Izaya how he'd known all about it. It was his job, he was good at it. Even more pointless would be asking for a little heads-up every now and then. It was _Izaya_ – at that, he was the best.

“Sorry to disappoint.” Fingers slid down to gently brush over the cut on tender skin of Shizuo's lips. “Why, did you have plans for us later?” Shizuo asked, tipping his head down to press a reverent kiss on Izaya's fingertips. He didn't imagine the way his eyes flickered shut at that moment.

“What do you care,” Izaya spoke in a soft voice. “You never do as I expect, I can't incorporate you into my plans, much as I would want to.”

Shizuo clasped the fingers at his lips gently in his own hand.

“You could always ask. You never know, I could go along with your plans.”

Izaya's lips curled in a soft smile that looked eerily genuine, if wistful. It didn't seem like he was buying into Shizuo's ground breaking idea.

“Really, though,” Izaya picked up as if Shizuo had never spoken at all. “Oh, I can have you throw a stone where I need a broken storefront, I can have you run where I need you to show, but that's about it. I can't mess with your head like I do others'.”

_You have no idea._

Izaya's fingers glided slightly to the side, curling in to cup Shizuo's cheek, stroking the soft skin around his ear.

“Part of it is because you're irrational. But the other part falls to your good instincts and your annoying integrity.

Every time I've said you don't conform to reason, you _know_ I mean I can't manipulate you?

I used to hate it. I'd lost so much sleep over the fact that there was someone I couldn't hope to control it's not even funny. And yet, if it wasn't for that, we could never have something real between us. I might be damaged but I'm not damaged enough to play pretend with my puppets. So I've come to... appreciate this immunity of yours. I've come to appreciate it a whole fucking lot and yet I find I still hate it at times.”

As confessions went, Shizuo mused, this one was very Izaya-like.

Shizuo drew Izaya's hand back to his lips again, tilted it gently so that he could press a trail of open-mouthed kisses down the slender fingers and into the hollow of Izaya's palm where he nuzzled, lavishing flickers of tongue. 

And he didn't imagine the way Izaya's breath caught on a sharp inhale.

Shizuo pulled Izaya's arm by the wrist to hook it over his nape, at the same time with his other arm round Izaya's middle Shizuo scooped him in for a searing kiss. Kissing him hot and sweet, Shizuo walked Izaya back a couple steps until his back had almost hit the thick trunk of the tree. Shizuo cushioned the impact by shooting his hand first against the rough bark. His strength caused the snow to shake off of all the tree limbs and branches, covering their embraced bodies behind a white veil of falling snow as they kissed, nipped and sucked on each others' lips before they were able to peel so much as an inch apart.

“You coming home yet?” Shizuo panted.

“Which one?” Izaya smiled, a little dazed.

Shizuo had just defeated a small army in a street battle, so he was feeling brave.

“We're gonna have to sort out this ambiguity.”

Izaya's eyes snapped up to him at that before he pulled Shizuo in for another heated kiss.

 

“Do you think it's possible to get addicted to passive smoking?” Izaya took a deep breath in as Shizuo puffed on his cigarette. 

As it turned out, Izaya would be there to monitor who goes in and out of the nearby office building for about an hour still, possibly longer if the identity of the spotted person required that he took next steps.

Shizuo was willing to keep him company but Izaya told him to head home. So there he was, enjoying his cigarette before taking off, with a side of not unpleasant company.

“I don't know. You tell me.” A corner of his mouth twitched up.

“It would seem so,” Izaya said. “I'll let you know.”

Shizuo dropped the stub to the ground and stamped it out swiftly. He kissed Izaya's lips one more time before leaving. 

“Take a route alongside the river,” Izaya called after him. “The main street is going to be a pain to plow through after the traffic light failure due in a couple minutes.”

Shizuo's eyes widened a notch. He'd always known the informant was scarily good but this was quite absurd.

“You're messing with me.”

Izaya shrugged. “Don't say I never did anything for you.”

“I've figured you out!” Shizuo snickered. “You're not this brilliant mastermind people take you for. You're actually a clairvoyant posing as an information broker. No wonder everyone's in awe about the stuff you can figure out.”

“Keep it down, will you!” Izaya hissed but he was clearly fighting back laughter jostling in his lungs. “I have a reputation to uphold. How long am I gonna live once the yakuza realize all my worth is stashed in a crystal ball.”

“But everything makes so much more sense now! Finally, it all comes together.” Shizuo grinned. “It's so amazing when facts and clues fall into place. Of course, you wouldn't know first thing about it.”

He turned to go while Izaya's chest was still heaving with bottled up mirth.

“Shizuo!”

When he'd looked back at this loud cry, it was to the sight of Izaya's eyes brimming with warmth.

“Don't wait up. There's work and I'm beat already.”

Shizuo would wait, nevertheless.

He nodded, fully aware that these were not the words Izaya had wanted to say. The look in his eyes, raw and powerful emotion to it, would haunt Shizuo for many months to come.

 

For the next day, Izaya was to sink a knife in his gut.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Your trust  
> The most gorgeously stupid thing I ever cut in the world"
> 
> These lines sadly apply to me as well. I'm putting this story on hiatus for 2-3 months. I do intend to pick it up after that time. But, as I mentioned in the comments, I hate to make promises seeing as future is uncertain.
> 
> My choice of this chapter as a break point was not random. I estimate we're about halfway through the story. This chapter also marks the end of Shizaya development part, after that there's just a whole lot of plot to come, mostly. Seeing as I've realized from the get-go that you're here for this pairing (and so am I), I tried to paint this relationship as wholesome, beautiful, brutal and fulfilling as my skills would allow. If I verged on silly melodrama at times, so be it! 
> 
> I'm immensely grateful for your support all throughout. At times, your kindness set the true highlights of my days. I hope you enjoyed the Shizaya because it is my 'thank you' for you guys, as much as it is the plot's milestone.  
> Please tell me what you think. Did I handle these tricky beautiful men right or did I mess up? xd And what's really happening here? Any predictions? Admittedly, I realize that I haven't left many clues for you to go by, but maybe...  
> Hopefully, see you all in a couple of months! Thank you! ❤️


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